Magnetism
by padgepadge
Summary: When Ema Skye makes a drunken mistake and sleeps with her boss, where does that leave room for their professional relationship? Klema, with some others thrown in for fun. Rated M for explicit sex, cursing and other adult themes.
1. Introduction to the Turnabout

Magnetism

_CHAPTER ONE: INTRODUCTION TO THE TURNABOUT._

A/N: Welp, it's been…oh, about 8 years since I ever even considered uploading something I've written to a website like this. But I felt like it was time. I was browsing the available (adult) fanfiction about the relationship between Klavier Gavin and Ema Skye, and I don't know…none of the stories really resonated with me. I am also just picky about sex scenes, eh. So here's my take on how they'd get together, based on context clues from the games and my own inference. They will have sex (though not in this chapter, but probably very soon), and they will not fall in love until way, way, way, way far into this story. Because I just don't read Ema or Klavier that way. But that's just me.

Enjoy, and let me know if my characterization is on the mark. It's always hard to portray them in situations they've never experienced in-game. I'm using this chapter to kind of set up how I am going to utilitize them, and then moving forward with that style when they start banging. ;)

**February 19, 2025  
****11:20 p.m.  
****Sunshine Coliseum**

It was probably the fangirls that annoyed her the most. There was just something about a vapid cluster of screaming girls that set Ema's teeth on edge. When she was stuck on security detail, she could always tell which of these groupies would be fucking members of The Gavinners that night – each of the musicians had a certain type.

The irritating blonde who was currently glaring at her would definitely make it into that stupid, glimmerous fop's bed tonight, Ema knew. She looked just like the girl he'd picked up at the last show – _Stacy, Marissa, Carrie…what was her name? Poor thing. _The girl before her, however, flanked by a brunette who definitely struck Ema as a pick for the Gavinners' bassist, Marco, was far more persistent that Ema recalled Mariah, or whatever her name was, being.

"But, Klavier invited me backstage himself!" she insisted, attempting to push herself through the barricade. She almost got past Ema by wielding her rather large breasts as a battering ram.

Ema sighed. She had a bag of Snackoos tucked into her messenger bag, which was too far away for her to give in to her craving in that moment. _But damn, what I wouldn't give to pelt this stupid girl in the face with some air-puffed chocolate, _the detective mused. "Wouldn't be the first time I've heard that someone got an invite from the fop himself," Ema said, rolling her eyes. "But no one is allowed backstage until after the final set, and not without permission from the band."

The band's third and final set had started about ten minutes earlier, Ema could tell by the familiar – and very annoying – sound of "13 Years Hard Time for Love" blaring into the wings of the stage. Ema had always hated rock music. "But he TOLD me! Klavy promised!"

_Klavy? You have got to me kidding me. _Ema snorted. "I'm just doing my job, miss. Now move along." She pushed the busty blonde gently away from the barricade, and the brunette followed. An actual security guard approached and kept them at bay while the detective moved farther into the backstage, grabbing her bag as she went. "You know, none of the other prosecutors assign their lead detectives to menial tasks like this," she muttered to herself. She fished in her bag for the Snackoos and quickly stuffed several into her face. "And—_munch_—none of them make—_munch_—the detectives dress—_munch_—in such stupid outfits!" She glared down at the "uniform" the foppish prosecutor always forced on her during security detail: a black skirt with a purple blouse featuring The Gavinners' familiar logo emblazoned on the breast pocket. It was humiliating – forced into slave labor by her stupid, lazy, inconsiderate, _irritating_…

"Ah, fraulein." Ema's first response to the sound of the familiar voice was to shovel more chocolate snacks into her mouth. Klavier Gavin had apparently stepped off stage for a quick drink to rest his vocal chords. She glowered at him.

"And to what do I owe this pleasure, fop?" she snarled through her mouthful of Snackoos. He smirked, ever-amused by the way she quickly bristled.

"I just needed a little drink of wasser, ja?" he replied, slowly running his hand through his hair. He headed for the band's dressing room. "And make sure that blonde fraulein makes her way into my dressing room, too, if you would."

Once the door closed behind him, Ema pelted a handful of Snackoos at it. The snacks rebounded with a familiar and satisfying "ka-tonk." "I'm a _fucking _detective, not your secretary!" she exclaimed, marching back down the hallway toward the barricade.

"Detective Skye, these ladies are quite insistent…" the guard said when she approached.

Ema shook her head. "Just let them in. Fop's orders."

The blonde and her friend, streaked into the backstage, squealing as the hurtled down the hallway. Ema pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, trying to calm the irritated headache that was forming in her skull. "What now, Detective Skye?"

"Just…just stay here!" she snapped, storming off again. Klavier had obviously returned to the stage, as the band's most recent hit, "Guilty Love," was reverberating in the hallway.

The blonde passed her again, looking positively overjoyed to be backstage. Ema assumed that the girl knew the price for being back here was her body. The nitwit.

_This is not the career in law enforcement I thought I was getting into, _she said to herself. She popped another Snackoo in her mouth. _If only I had passed that stupid forensics exam…_

~~~ _Eight Months Later_ ~~~

**October 12, 2025**

**9:12 a.m.**

**Criminal Affairs Dept.**

Ema stretched her arms over her head, sighing. She had just wrapped up the final paperwork for the Misham case. Phoenix Wright's test of the jurist system had gone swimmingly, but the trial's results had been making things a bit harder for her – Kristoph Gavin had seen to that.

The documents sat in the printer, waiting for delivery to the prosecutor's office. She shot them a glance, dreading the familiar trip from her office to that of her irritating boss. She glanced at the clock. _And he'll be calling for them in three, two…_

The phone began to ring. She had to admit that the fop did have an impeccable sense of timing. She lifted the receiver. "Criminal Affairs, Homicide Division. Ema Skye speaking."

"Fraulein, I believe you owe me a report, ja?" Klavier Gavin drawled into the phone. Despite the fact that his voice still made her nose curl in irritation, he had lost his edge after the revelations about his brother. "You'd best be delivering it. Quickly." He hung up.

Ema tossed the phone receiver on her desk, groaning, then set it back on the cradle. She hoped, if only for her own sake, that he would only be insufferable for a little while longer. The trial had ended just days ago, and she was already at wit's end.

She jammed the papers in her messenger bag and grabbed her keys off her desk. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Ema tromped dutifully out of her office. She was halfway to the elevator when someone called her name. "Ema!"

Ema turned and spotted her sister. Lana had returned to detective work after being released from jail, and was the director of a division dedicated to investigating gang violence and drug crime in the city. "Lana! Isn't it a little early for you to be in the office?" Her sister's position tended to lend itself to late hours.

"I stopped in, actually, hoping to catch you!" Lana said. "I thought you might have time for a cup of coffee, but…you look pretty busy." Ema had to admit the offer was tempting – she rarely got a moment alone with her sister these days.

"I just have to run this report over to the prosecutor's office." She pointed with her thumb toward the bag. "I'd have some time after to do a little catching up, if that works."

"Sure!" Lana followed her sister to the elevator. "Why don't I give you a lift? Our old favorite café is on that side of town, anyway."

They soon reached the parking deck. Ema slid into the passenger's seat of her sister's navy sedan and tossed her bag into the back. The trip to the prosecutor's office took about twenty minutes in light traffic, but Lana had a tendency to reckless driving. They'd likely be there in fifteen. "So how goes the investigation?" Ema asked as they pulled out of the garage. She knew they'd recently had a successful sting on a drug ring in Compton. "Sounds like you've found some leads."

Lana's face lit up when she talked about her work – much the same way Ema's did when she was working with forensic tools. "Some of our regular informants stumbled into big, big information. That sting was one of the biggest we've ever done, and we caught several key drug traffickers and major gang leaders." She paused as she pulled on to the highway. "And it sent a major message to the ones we didn't catch – the LAPD is sick of this senseless violence and we're going to stop it."

They chatted back and forth about work as they drove, but the subject soon turned to the Misham case, and to the final downfall of one of Los Angeles's most respected defense attorneys. "The Coolest Defense in the West" was no more, and Lana was intrigued by the details of the case. "It's been…difficult. The case seemed very open-and-shut during the initial investigation, but everyone knows how that turned out," Ema said. "It's made my work more of a headache than it needs to be, that's for sure, because that stupid –"

Lana shook her head. "Klavier Gavin," she said, interrupting her sister. "I know you have your own ideas about him, but he has a _name_. And you should be able to sympathize, right? Think back to the SL-9 case…and my own."

Ema bit her lip, silenced, and then reached into the backseat for her Snackoos. She munched on several, loudly, before saying anything. "Lana, he's my boss, he can't take his grief – or whatever this is – out on me," she finally said. They pulled into the parking lot under the prosecutor's office. "Although maybe this is finally my chance to transfer to the team of a different prosecutor?" she mused.

Lana rolled her eyes. "Go do your job. We'll finish this discussion later."

Ema stepped out of the car, Snackoos in hand, and pressed the button on the elevator.

**October 12, 2025  
****9:43 a.m.  
****Prosecutor Gavin's Office**

Ema turned the knob on the door to the prosecutor's office as she knocked to signal her arrival. Klavier looked up from his desk, an obnoxious stereo-shaped centerpiece to the room, and eyed her, a familiar smirk on his mouth. "Quicker than I expected, Fraulein," he said, rising slowly from his desk like a panther. He held out his hand for the paperwork.

Ema froze for a moment, suddenly unsure. He quirked an eyebrow and wiggled his fingers expectantly. She reached into her bag and thrust the report into his hand, backing a few steps away once he'd taken it from her. "I, uh…should probably get back to work," she mumbled. _What's with the air in here? It's fucking weird. _She turned on her heel and headed for the door. "Well, uh…I'll be back at the precinct, let me know if you need anything."

He dropped the file onto his desk and leaned forward, resting his palms on either side of the surface. She barely had her hand on the doorknob when he said, "Fraulein, wait."

She didn't turn right away. "What?" she snapped, stuffing several Snackoos in her mouth. She heard him chuckle. The sound was enough to make her shoot him a glare. Klavier was unfazed, used to the grumpy expression she often wore on her face around him.

He held his hands up in front of him in defense. "No need to get testy, mein fraulein," he said. She lifted an eyebrow and munched on more Snackoos, waiting. "Just a reminder that you have not accepted your invitation to the annual Halloween Gala at the prosecutor's office."

Calling it a "gala" was a stretch in Ema's opinion. She had never envisioned a gala that featured so much drunken debauchery and ridiculous costumes. All of the lead detectives received an invite, and she had turned hers down the year before. "I don't think I'm going, that's why," she retorted, continuing to glower at him.

Klavier shrugged. "All of the prosecutors were just reminded by the planning committee today to inquire about the invitations," he said simply. He returned to his seat, but did not dismiss her. He watched her for a moment before continuing. "I think you'd be surprised by how much fun it can be, fraulein." He rested his chin on his hands.

She almost dropped her bag of Snackoos. _Is he…coming on to me? _"I'll, uh…think about it," she huffed. "Goodbye!"

"Auf Wiedersehen, fraulein," he called to her fleeting form. She slammed the door behind her, fleeing as quickly as she could.

Ema reached into her pocket for her cell phone, and quickly dialed her sister's number. "Hey, Lana, I'm on my way down." Before Lana could reply, she snapped the phone shut. Ema leaned on the wall of the elevator, furiously eating Snackoos.

_What the hell just happened?_

**October 12, 2025  
****10:07 a.m.  
****Maria's Café**

Ema took a hefty drink of her coffee, feeling the bitter liquid slither down her throat. Lana watched her curiously, confused. "What's up, Em? You seem a little out of it today."

Ema shrugged, placing her cup back on its saucer with force. "Just the usual, Lana. You know."

Lana thought carefully about her next words, sipping her coffee. "He's not all that bad, you know. Why, Franziska thinks he's positively delightful." Lana had been quietly dating Franziska von Karma since she'd gotten out of jail, but Ema never took much stock in her sister's girlfriend's opinion.

"Of course she does. I'm sure they're a perfect duo," Ema retorted, taking another swig of coffee. "And Franziska's been in Germany half the time, anyway, what does she know?" She gripped her cup, trying to curb her craving for Snackoos. Lana rolled her eyes.

"Ema, I know Mr. Gavin is…different," she acknowledged. "But just deal with it until you retake your forensics exam. I know he gets under your skin, but he's more pleasant to deal with than a lot of the other prosecutors in the city."

Ema sighed, burying her face in her hands. "Lana, he asked me about the Halloween thing. Scientifically speaking, I would describe it as a _come-on_," she finally admitted. She was surprised by how heated her face felt, and how embarrassed she was.

Lana's eyebrows lifted, but she had to admit that she wasn't overly surprised. She chuckled at her sister's childish reaction. "Ema, really," she said, smirking. "You can't be that shocked. That's not particularly out of character for him, and you are a beautiful, young lady."

"I hate that idiot," Ema snarled. "You know that, he knows that. How _dare_ he?"

At that, Lana lost it and burst out laughing. "Ema, relax. Don't take everything so seriously," she admonished. "Maybe you should go to the Halloween Gala, hmm? You need to loosen up a bit."

Ema shook her head immediately, looking horrified at the very suggestion. "Absolutely not!" she exclaimed. "You know that's not my style at all. Not even remotely! People will be drunk and dancing and wearing _costumes_, Lana."

Lana finished her coffee and waited for Ema to finish spazzing out. She knew the rant was over when Ema began to furiously munch on Snackoos. "It's called having fun, Ema," she said simply. "You could try it sometime. And I'm going, and you know I'm not one for parties myself." Franziska was oversees, but had offered her ticket to the gala to Lana. "It would be nice to go out together, you know…have a few martinis, meet some new people…"

Ema sighed. "O—Okay," she mumbled. "I guess I could…"

Lana had obviously heard Ema's acceptance, but she leaned forward, cupping her hand around her ear. "Wait, what was that? Care to repeat it?"

"Fine, I'll go! I'll go to the stupid fucking Halloween gala," Ema shouted. Patrons of the diner turned to stare, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. "S-Sorry," she whispered.

Lana let her sister recover from her embarrassment before speaking. "Well, it's settled then. Make sure you RSVP when you get back to the office – tomorrow's the last day." The Skye sisters stood and headed toward the door. Lana leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "And we have to make sure to go costume shopping this weekend."

Ema was already regretting her decision to give in. "Can't I just go in my regular clothes? I'll tell everyone I dressed up as a detective." She slid into the passenger's seat.

"Definitely not! Just get into the spirit, Ema, lighten up," Lana said.

They pulled out of the parking lot and onto the freeway. _I feel very bad about this._

**October 12, 2025  
****11:03 a.m.  
****Criminal Affairs Department**

Ema slammed the door to her office open and quickly flopped into the chair at her desk. "Damn it, Ema," she muttered to herself as her computer booted up. "You're such an idiot."

The email invite to the gala sat unread in her inbox, and she found it quickly because it had been labeled as priority mail. She hesitated, the cursor hovering over the reply button for a solid minute before she clicked it.

She only needed to type one word in the email: "attending."

Ema hit send.

A/N: Well, there you have it. I just wanted one chapter to really show how I'm going to portray Ema before I got into the sexy stuff. I don't plan on switching from Ema's POV much, if at all, maybe just for some added poetic license and insight into Klavier's thoughts…though those seem pretty obvious to me, hehe.

And yes, Lana is a lesbian because I wanted her to be. I wanted to have her in a relationship throughout the story – even though it ended up being a long distance one – because I wanted to make sure she would be in a position to give really solid, honest romantic advice to her little sister. The choice of Franziska as Lana's mate ended up being relatively arbitrary. It just felt right.

I'm also looking very forward to getting this started for real, if you know what I mean. My take on Ema is that she is not exactly a sex goddess, but that she's not completely inexperienced – I could totally see her having some fun in Europe, and now that she's back in the states, she's stifled herself a bit because she's so focused on getting into forensics.

See you next chapter, at the Halloween shebang. I wasn't sure if I wanted it to be a Halloween party, but tis the season. Expect some more in the next few dayzzzzzzz. 3


	2. Turnabout Halloween

Magnetism

_TURNABOUT HALLOWEEN_

A/N: I am so so so sorry about how long it took me to get this chapter together. Through my job, my classes and my birthday (weee!), I got very distracted and didn't get it written until now. Thanks for sticking with me!

I'm also really surprised to see that there are actually a few people who have read this, haha. I expected it to just get thrown online and no one would even see it. Welp. So I appreciate the views. I'm just doing this to amuse myself. Let me know when you think I can do something better – or if there's something you'd like to see – and I'll keep it in mind!

See ya'll at the end. :)

**October 16, 2025**

**7:48 p.m.**

**East City Mall**

Ema was not built for shopping malls. It definitely wasn't her ideal scene. Particularly at this time of year, when irritating high schoolers crowded the costume shop for the year's most popular offerings. But she allowed Lana to drag her there, anyway, because she had made the grave mistake of agreeing to attend the prosecutors' stupid gala.

She had lost her sister somewhere in the store, but she was too distracted by the terror the costumes brought her to be concerned. There was not a single one in the women's section that wasn't incredibly slutty. Ema inspected several potential costumes – a mini-skirted Robin Hood, several witches, a cat – and knew she was not going to waste her money on them.

Lana reappeared after several minutes, thrusting one of the packages into her hand. "This would be perfect for you!" she said. Ema stared at it, blankly. It was something with a lot of spandex.

"Lana, I really can't…" she mumbled, quickly putting the outfit back on the rack. "It's there something, you know…with a little _more_?"

Lana blinked slowly, glancing down at her own costume for a moment before answering. "Ema, the point is to look sexy, you know," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "There will be a lot of single guys there, and if I recall correctly, it's been quite a while since you…"

Ema held up a hand to silence her sister. "Lana, seriously. I'm not going to have a one-night stand at the PROSECUTOR'S OFFICE!" she exclaimed. "And it's not like there's going to be anyone there I'd…"

"What about Mr. Gavin?" Lana interrupted, raising an eyebrow. Ema's face flushed, and she clasped a hand over her mouth.

"No, no, no, no…absolutely _not!_" she shouted. A preteen girl shot Ema a glare at the outburst. "You've got to be kidding! I would never, not with that stupid, self-centered, irritating, foppish…"

Lana laughed at her sister's response. "I get it, I get it. I was just trying to rile you up, Em," she said with a smirk. Her younger sister glowered at her. "But still, the point of going is to loosen up and have fun, right? Isn't that why we're going in the first place?"

Ema sighed. "I…supposed so," she conceded. "But still, I just don't feel comfortable in something like that."

Lana linked her arm through Ema's pulling her deeper into the store. "Well, little sister, let's see what we can find for you," she said.

**October 18, 2025**

**9:23 a.m.**

**Criminal Affairs Department**

Ema flopped into her desk chair with a heavy sigh. She had spent the entire weekend being coerced by her sister into costume after costume. _And those are some of my last days off for a while, _she thought as her computer began to boot up.

The preliminary documents for her latest case sat fresh and unread on her desk. She'd recently been moved to the investigation into the homicide of a famous actress after the previous detective felt unable to continue.

Which meant she wouldn't get to avoid her pretentious boss much that day, despite the fact that she wanted only to do just that.

Like clockwork, her phone rang. "Criminal Affairs, Homicide Department. Ema Skye speaking."

"Fraulein, I'm assuming you read the documents related to our new case?" Klavier drawled into the phone. She felt her blood pressure rising. She'd looked them over, but the previous investigators had barely looked over the crime scene before the case was passed on to them.

"Of course I have," she snapped. "I'm sure you barely even glanced at them."

"Prickly this morning, as usual, fraulein," he said, amusement in his voice. "I take it you're free to go to the scene this morning, then?"

Ema felt her spirits sink. She was hoping to move the evidence from the Misham case and tie up some other loose ends that morning. "Fine. I'll leave in 10 minutes."

She could feel Klavier smirking at her through the phone. "See you there, fraulein." He hung up.

She leaned in her chair, her head falling back, sighing. "Damn it."

**October 18, 2025**

**10:03 a.m.**

**Gatewater Hotel**

Ema knew by the gaudy purple motorcycle out front of the hotel that Klavier had beaten her to the crime scene. She had to acknowledge, though she hated him, that he was surprisingly punctual for a lazy, good-for-nothing fop.

She pushed past the police officers at the hotel's entrance, flashing her detective's badge quickly at them. The officer in charge of protecting the scene approached her once she entered. "Detective Skye, the crime scene is room 2G. Prosecutor Gavin is already inside."

Ema's eyes narrowed. "Of course he is. Thank you, officer." She paused in front of the elevator, hitting the button. When she reached the second floor, the door of hotel room in question was just outside of the elevator. She stepped inside to find two forensic technicians and her boss. The body had already been removed, and a white chord outlined where it had been found.

"Ah, fraulein. Nice of you to finally join us," he drawled. She scowled at him, ignoring the snarky remark.

"Techie, debrief me on what you've found," she barked, stepping into her usual bossy role.

One of them paused in his work. "Detective, there are few clues left behind, really. The victim, Talia Dawson, was stabbed to death. Multiple stab wounds to the torso and arms were documented. The autopsy report suggests that the killing blow occurred before the killer had finished stabbing her."

Ema had gleaned that much from the report she'd received that morning. Talia Dawson as a popular actress and the murder was a huge national news story, so the coroner's office had worked quickly. "You said there were few clues? But there was an arrest made."

"We have been unable to find many fingerprints or forensic evidence at the scene, ma'am," he explained. "However, we arrested Ms. Dawson's body guard, Ed DeGuardo, because he was the only other person with access to the room. He also does not have a solid alibi for the time of the crime, and was caught on a security feed entering the hotel room shortly before the crime occurred."

"What of the weapon? Was it recovered?" she asked.

"The only knife we found was a small fruit knife, which does bear the suspect's prints," the technician explained. "There was some of the victim's blood found on the knife, but not in a pattern that is consistent with the wounds. It appears to be spatter from the actual attack. As far as the actual murder weapon, it has yet to be found."

"Who found the body? Was it the suspect?"

"He is the one who called the police, yes. But he's also our only suspect at present."

Ema moved closer to where the body had been found. The victim had been discovered on her stomach, splayed out in a pool of her own blood. The stain covered a large section of the plush carpet. Klavier glanced up at her. "You done barking orders at the techs, fraulein?"

She shot him a glare before crouching down next to the bloodstain. "Let's try to get this over with, shall we?" she said.

He laughed. "Well, then get investigating, _detective_. I'll supervise."

Ema stood, calling to the technician, "Was a luminol test performed?"

"Not yet, detective."

Her eyes lit up. "Well, I'll take care of it, then." She reached into her messenger bag and pulled out the spray and her trusty black light. She sprayed the nearby sofa and the area surrounding the stain before dimming the lights. Some blood spatter had bit the side of the sofa, and a strange bloodstain marred the arm – one that didn't match up with the other spatter. She gestured for one of the techs. "Can you make sure this makes it into evidence?"

She continued to bustle around the crime scene, examining everything she could get her hands on. Most of the precinct's forensic technicians had come to deal with Ema's overbearing style at crime scenes.

Much to her surprise – and annoyance – Klavier interrupted her. "So, fraulein, I saw that you are attending the party after all," he said. She glanced at him before continuing to dust for prints on a bedside table.

"Yeah, so?" she retorted, not stopping for conversation. "What's the big deal?"

"You seemed adamantly opposed when we spoke about it before," he continued, not taking the hint that she wanted to be left alone. Or merely choosing to ignore it, she wasn't quite sure which. "Why did you change your mind?"

Ema gently brushed away the excess fingerprint powder, revealing a perfect print. "Lana convinced me that I needed to loosen up sometimes," she said warily, not sure she wanted to reveal too much to him.

Much to her surprise, he leaned over the table, not far behind her. She stiffened, uncomfortable with his closeness. "I'm glad your sister at least has some sense," he said, his breath tickling her ear.

She didn't move, and didn't dare reply. He pulled away. Finally, after a long silence, she mumbled, "I think I've seen enough to file an initial report. I'm going back to the precinct, and I'll have the documents for you this afternoon."

He watched her, then gestured for her to lead the way out of the hotel room. "After you, fraulein."

She didn't acknowledge him before hurrying out. The exchange they'd just had put the Halloween party in the forefront of her mind, and she had to admit she was growing less and less excited for it happen.

_Damn you, Lana. This is already getting out of hand._

**October 31, 2025**

**9:54 p.m.**

**Ema's Apartment**

Lana had joined her sister at her small, downtown apartment to get ready for the gala, dressed in the witch's costume she'd chosen to wear. She knocked on the bedroom door for the fifth time. "Ema! You can't hide in there forever! Don't tell me you have cold feet _now_!"

"I'm not going!" her younger sister replied from the other side. "I can't go out in this."

"Ema, do I have to remind you that you're the one who picked out that costume?" Lana persisted, sighing. "You look amazing, I'm sure, just come out."

There was a shuffling, and then the door cracked. "You can come in, but I'm not leaving."

Lana pushed her way into the bedroom and appraised Ema. Ema had given in to a flattering hula dancer costume, with a cute, pink bandeau bikini and a bright red lei. She wore her hair down in waves with a matching, flowered hair-piece. "Ema, you look beautiful. Why are you backing out on me? I can't go alone!"

"I just feel weird, you know, Lana?" she said, looking at herself in the mirror for what must have been the hundredth time. "It's just not me."

Lana put her arm around her sister. "That's the point, Em," she said. "You're trying to have fun and loosen up, right? This is a perfect chance." She moved back toward the door, holding it open for Ema. "Now, come on. Grab your jacket and let's go."

Ema paused, glancing at herself in the mirror one more time. She headed out of the bedroom and grabbed her coat from its hanger next to the door. _Lana, what have you gotten me into?_

**October 31, 2025**

**10:26 p.m.**

**Prosecutor's Office**

The entrance to the Prosecutor's Office had been completely redecorated for the party. It was the first thing Ema spotted when she got out of Lana's car. And she wasn't sure if she liked it.

She hung back as they readied to go inside. Lana linked her arm through her sister's, dragging her in. "Come on, Ema," she hissed. "Stop being a baby."

They checked their coats and made their way into the main ballroom, which had been converted from the entire first lobby lounge of the office. Decorations hung from the ceiling and each of the windows. Pop music blared from a DJ booth on the opposite side. Food tables were everywhere, while waiters brought trays of certain hors d'oeuvres and drinks to people in the crowd. Several tables accommodated guests who preferred to sit, while plenty of others were standing and dancing to the music. "Lana, this is so not me," Ema stammered, staring wide-eyed at the scene.

"Well, have a drink or two and you'll feel better," her sister said simply, pulling Ema toward the bar. The line was surprisingly short, but it was still early. When they made it to the bar, Lana ordered for both of them.

"What is it?" Ema asked, eyeing the pink drink.

"It's a hurricane, Em," Lana explained. "It's delicious, and it will help tone down those nerves you're carrying around." She glanced at something over Ema's shoulder. "I'll catch you later."

Ema took a deep swig of the drink, and noted that it was light and fruity with minimal alcohol burn. One of the waiters walked by with a tray of finger sandwiches, and she grabbed a couple and stuffed them in her mouth. Not quite as satisfying as her beloved Snackoos, but still quite tasty. Another long drink and she felt the heat of it settle pleasantly in her stomach. _Maybe if I just stick close to the bar, I'll be fine._

Then, much to her surprise, a warm hand slid across the small of her bare back. She immediately stiffened. "And for what lucky man are you dressed so sexy tonight, fraulein?"

She immediately grabbed Klavier's wrist and thrust his hand away from her. He was close enough that she could smell alcohol on his breath – a husky bourbon. She glanced at him. He was dressed as a vampire. _How cliché. Why am I not surprised? _The dark purple vest he wore echoed to his usual attire. "Don't touch me," she snarled.

He laughed, shaking his glass and making the ice tinkle off the sides. "I thought you were supposed to be lightening up, Ema," he said.

He addressed her by her first name so rarely that she was caught off-guard. "Whatever, doesn't give you any right to sexually harass me," she retorted. The words had barely made it out of her mouth before she regretted them.

His eyes flashed. "Sexually harass? Me? You think far too little of me, fraulein."

_This fucking asshole, _she thought. _He's mocking me. _She had to get away from him. The way he was watching her expectantly set her teeth on edge. She spotted Lana talking with one of her co-workers across the party. "I have to go," she mumbled, sprinting to her sister. Klavier watched her the entire way.

Lana's eyebrows lifted at her sister's appearance. "What's the matter? You're out of breath," she said.

"I'm fine," Ema said, hunching over for a second to catch her breath. "Can we do something? Eat? Dance? _Anything_?"

A smirk settled on Lana's mouth. "Ah, I see what your problem is," she said, teasing. Ema knocked back the rest of her drink, slamming it on to the tray of a passing waiter. "Looks like you just spoke with Mr. Gavin."

Ema shook her head. "Not a problem. I just want to hang out with my sister, you know?" She glanced toward the bar. "I'll get us more drinks." She ran off before Lana could tease her any further.

At the bar, she ordered a shot of the house vodka before grabbing another of the pink, fruity hurricane her sister had purchased. The shot burned the whole way down, but it felt good, like sweet torture. _I need to get drunk, _she realized. _Then everything will be fine._

She returned to Lana, carrying another drink for her sister. Ema had already downed a third of her own on her way back. "Ema, you should probably slow down a bit," Lana said. "You're a bit of a lightweight, you know. I don't want you to do anything stupid."

"Me, stupid?" A pleasant haze had filled Ema's head. She took another long drink. "I'm the most composed person you know, Lana."

Lana didn't answer right away, her gaze settling past Ema. Ema glanced back to see that Klavier was still eyeing her. "You're not very composed right now, Ema," Lana said. "Maybe if you talked to him you wouldn't freak out all the time."

Ema finished her drink, shaking her head. "No way. I'm going back to the bar, maybe I'll catch you later," she said. Lana looked concerned, but allowed her to leave.

The third hurricane tasted even better than the previous two. She'd forgotten how much better alcohol tastes after you get the first few drinks out of the way. The haze was intensifying – she was still in control, but she felt lighter, happier.

One of the other detectives at precinct approached her. "Detective Skye, I'm surprised to see you here," he said, leaning close. He was dressed as some kind of 1920s gangster. She scrambled to remember his name – Mark, Edward, John…

"Yeah, I thought I earned the time off," she said, sipping on her drink. The man – she thought maybe his name was Marcus, now – slipped an arm around her waist. She didn't like it, she didn't know him, but for the moment, she allowed it to stay. _Lana told me to have fun, right? _He was kind of cute, she guessed, but wasn't really her type at all. _Maybe if I keep drinking…_

She swigged more of her drink as the other detective continued to flirt with her. She had almost reached the bottom when he pulled on her hand. "Want to dance?"

She finished the hurricane, resting the empty glass on a nearby table. "I'd like to get another drink first," she said. He nodded, leaning in like he was going to kiss her. She turned her head, so his lips connected with her cheek. As quickly as she could, she escaped from his embrace.

At the bar, a familiar voice interrupted her order. "Two shots of bourbon, please." Ema turned, glaring at Klavier.

"Get away from me, fop," she said. "I don't like whiskey, anyway."

"You seem pretty open to things you don't like right now, fraulein," Klavier said. There was an edge to his voice that surprised her. He looked toward the dance floor, and she followed his eyes to the detective who'd been flirting with her before.

She grinned. Booze-fueled bravado pumped through her veins. "Is the rock-star prosecutor…_jealous_?" she sneered. The bartender set the shots down. Ema looked at it, and then knocked it back before Klavier could answer. She liked the strength of the drink as it ignited its way down. Klavier followed suit, watching her.

She was definitely drunk now. She could feel the room almost spinning around her. "Fraulein, it is apparently not just your outfit that is sexy tonight," he said. She gasped, surprised. He ordered them each another drink, handing her a fourth pink hurricane.

"Don't think you can just get me drunk, you jerk," she said, sipping the drink as they moved away from the bar.

He leaned in close. "I think you seem plenty relaxed, don't you?" He ran his hand along her back, and this time, she didn't move so quickly to push him away.

"I should probably go find, umm…" She paused, trying desperately to remember the name of the detective from earlier. He was safe – she knew she could easily say no to him.

"You don't remember his name?" The challenge was there. "I'm sure he was quite the charmer, then," he said, taking a sip of his bourbon on the rocks.

"Well, at least he's not a fop," she retorted, jabbing him in the chest with her forefinger. He watched her closely before closing his hand around hers.

"I'm not sure I like your tone, fraulein," he said. He shot another glance to the dance floor and the detective, who seemed to have acknowledged that he was no longer on Ema's radar and had given up on her. "I may be a fop, as you say, but…" He pulled her closer. In her head, hazy as it was, she wanted to struggle, but her body ignored her. He leaned close to her ear. "…that doesn't change anything about right now, does it?"

She shook her head, not in agreement but in an attempt to shake off the effect he was having on her. His breath in her ear and his voice wrapping around her thoughts were both making her already-fuzzy head spin. "I don't know what you mean," she mumbled, attempting to gather herself.

"Of course you do," Klavier continued. His now-finished drink had been placed on the edge of a nearby table, and he grasped her hips, pulling her flush to him. She used her glass as a barrier, preventing her chest from touching his. She took a long swig of her drink, trying to avoid speaking to him. She could smell the alcohol on his breath again, the thick bourbon mingling with the masculine fragrance of whatever cologne he was wearing. "Dance with me." It wasn't quite a demand, but an offer.

She couldn't quite refuse. She downed the rest of her drink. "Can I get one more?" Ema murmured. He released her, allowing her to approach the bar. As she opened her mouth to order another drink, Lana sidled up to her.

"Are you sure need another one, Em?" she asked, an eyebrow lifted.

"I—of course I do," Ema managed. She was realizing that she was drunker than she thought.

Lana pulled her away from the bar by her elbow. "I'm all for you having a good time, Ema, but really." She sighed. "I don't want you to do something you'll regret tomorrow." She looked beyond her sister, and Ema thought she knew what Lana was starting at.

Ema pushed her sister's hands away, shaking her head. She stumbled, trying to get her bearings. "I'm…fine," she mumbled. "I'll stop drinking, okay?"

Lana smiled. "Well, in that case," she conceded. "I think I know where you're headed. Catch you later." She vanished back into the party.

Ema meandered her way on to the dance floor. Her legs felt heavy. The same pair of warm hands caught her. She noticed this time that there were calluses on his fingers from hours spent playing the guitar. "I thought you wanted another drink, fraulein," Klavier said.

Ema turned to him. His hands slid down her back, pulling her against him. This time, she didn't have a barrier. Her hands met his chest and she looked up at him, surprised by the fact that she enjoyed it. "Lana…said I should probably take a break," she replied.

He was about to say something – likely at her expense – when a Gavinners song began to blare through the speakers. Ema scowled. "Something wrong?" he whispered, amused, his lips brushing the edge of her jaw. She felt her pulse quicken, thudding through her veins.

After the first few bars, she recognized it as "Guilty Love." "I hate this song," she said, pouting. Klavier nuzzled the hollow under her ear, distracting her. "I hate your stupid band and every stupid song you ever wrote."

He began to sing along, low enough that only she could hear. Ema was embarrassed to find that she, too, knew all the words. "Ema, you keep saying things that aren't true."

She pushed him away, blinking hard to try and get rid of the hazy film that had settled over her mind. _I am being seduced by the fop,_ she realized. _Stupid gala, stupid alcohol, stupid _Lana… He gave her space, but didn't seem to be deterred. "You're…persistent," she stammered.

"And you're pretending you don't like it," he countered. "Fraulein, admit it."

"No way, absolutely not." She stormed off, heading toward the exit of the party. She had barely made it into the empty hallway when he caught up to her. It wasn't hard for him to pin her against the wall – she was so drunk she could barely stand. "Go away."

Klavier pressed his nose into her hair, pressing every inch of his body to hers. "Ema…"

She looked up at him, preparing to say something rude, when he crushed his mouth into hers. His hands moved roughly across her bare skin, exploring what was available to him.

Ema hated herself for it, but she found herself kissing him back, her hands fisting in his vest to pull him closer. His lips were skillful, his tongue even more so as he dragged it across her bottom lip. There was urgency, a hunger in his kiss that surprised her. She wasn't sure she ever wanted him to stop.

His tongue had found its way into her mouth and was massaging against hers in a way that was both possessive and worshipful, like he wanted to be gentle and devour her whole at the same time. His hands slid down her back to cup her ass, and he groaned appreciatively into her mouth. She grabbed a fistful of his platinum blonde hair, kissing him harder, more passionately. She was pinned squarely between his body and the wall, and she could feel his arousal at her hip.

She was contemplating this – _This guy actually wants _me_?_ – as he pulled away from her. He trailed kissed down her jaw, nosing the underside of her chin before grazing his teeth along the base of her throat. Ema could feel him still pushing against her hip, and she could tell that she would likely enjoy what Klavier was offering her.

_But it's such a bad idea. Right?_ "Come with me," he breathed in her ear. He sucked on her earlobe, and heard a soft moan escape her mouth. It wasn't something she was used to, at all. One of his hands slipped down her thigh, and his hardness was right there, against her. Her body sung with need, and she knew she couldn't refuse him.

He didn't allow her to answer before kissing her again, hooking her leg around his waist and grinding his groin into her own. She trailed her fingers across his waistband and then slowly down the zipper – merely brushing them against the fabric. He bit down on her lower lip, hard, and she cried out in surprise. "O—Okay," she said between the bruising, passionate kisses.

He took her hand, pulling her toward the exit. Ema noticed that her mouth felt swollen from his rough attack and her entire body seemed to be on fire. Klavier grinned at her, and she knew he felt it, too. He planted a kiss on the back of her hand as the valet handed him the keys to his car.

It was a beautiful, sleek black Jaguar. _Of course, _she thought. _This rich, stupid fop… _She watched him as she clamored into the passenger's seat. _This rich, stupid fop that I might be about to sleep with…_

**November 1, 2025**

**12:40 a.m.**

**Klavier Gavin's apartment**

The alcohol haze in her brain made the drive to Klavier's apartment seem incredibly slow. He was very focused on the trip, likely because of his own drunkness, but his hand slid up and down her thigh at a tantalizingly slow pace, inching close to the apex before returning back to her knee. She could hardly imagine what his nimble, experienced fingers could do to her.

They took the elevator up to the penthouse apartment in the building. _Another reminder of how, scientifically, I am much poorer than he is, _she thought. He barely touched her during the long ride, trailing a finger across the small of her back. But she felt the burn in him, too, the heat from them both filling the tight space of the elevator.

As soon as the door shut behind them, he crushed her against it, his lips on hers as if he were going to eat her alive. His hands seemed to everywhere at once and it didn't take long for him to toss the grass skirt she wore to the side. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders and to the floor to join it. Before she realized it, he'd wrapped her legs around his waist was carrying her farther into the apartment. His mouth still explored her, sucking on the side of her neck and along her collarbone.

He dumped her unceremoniously onto his bed. Klavier paused to pull off his vest and dispose of his gaudy Gavinners' necklace. Ema thought briefly that she'd always hated it, hated the band, hated _him_…and now she was in his bed. The alcohol that still clung to her mind helped her rationalize it. She wanted this.

He joined her, the weight of him pressing her into the bed. He kissed her again, one of his hands slipping up under her bandeau. He murmured appreciatively into her mouth as her nipple stood at attention under his skillful fingers. Ema clawed at the buttons on his shirt, fumbling with them for a while before ripping his shirt open. She heard several buttons ricochet off into his bedroom. He continued to tease her nipple, tugging on it, as she explored his torso with her hands. He wasn't unnaturally muscular, but toned and defined in a way that made her blood sing. She wanted to see the rest of him, too, touch him, kiss him everywhere.

He broke off the kiss, trailing his lips down her chin. He sat up briefly to pull the remains of his shirt off before quickly unhooking her bandeau and tossing it to the side. He looked her over, a grin on his face. She saw the darkness, the need in his eyes and was taken in by it. He nuzzled the side of her neck before shifting agonizingly slowly down her chest. He traced the shape of her sternum with his nose, kissing her there. He fondled one of her breasts affectionately and closed his lips around her other nipple. She gasped, the heat of his mouth surprising her.

His tongue massaged the sensitive pink nub, swirling around it. Ema buried her hands in his hair, straining to pull him closer to her. He teased her with his teeth, eliciting a pleasured moan. She arched her chest toward his mouth as hot sensation pooled deep in her belly. It spiked upward, mingling with the fuzzy booze that lingered in her head.

Then, much to her dismay, the teasing ceased and his mouth moved downward. He planted kisses across her stomach, swirling his tongue around her navel. When he reached the edge of her bikini bottoms, he trailed his nose farther down, inhaling deeply. He ran his nose up and down the length of her entrance. "You smell so good, fraulein," Klavier whispered. He looked up and locked eyes with her as he slid the pink bottoms down and tossed them aside. Ema realized that she was naked and felt suddenly nervous. She looked away from him.

He touched the side of her face, a gesture she found weirdly tender. "Ema, you're a beautiful woman," he said softly, running his thumb over her lips. "Let me treat you like one, ja?"

She nodded, released from her fear. He gave her no warning before he swirled a finger around her clit. She was already excited, and that bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs had already swollen. She moaned, her eyes closing as she succumbed to him. His touch was light, teasing her, and she wanted more. He slipped a finger inside her, testing her, and she exclaimed, surprised. She lifted her hips, to give him better access. He traced the curve of her hip with his tongue, kissing the inside of her thigh.

Ema was a ball of sensation. He slid another finger into her, pushing deep. He rotated them in a circle, catching the most sensitive spot inside her. She cried out, and he continued to tease her there, pressing hard. He replaced his hand at her clit with his mouth, sucking on it. She felt herself creeping closer and closer to the edge, the tense pleasure radiating up from her belly. His tongue nimbly worked her over, the sensation becoming unbearable. She moaned again, out of control of herself.

She came, gloriously. The universe around her exploded, spiraling, before it reconnected to her at her body. Klavier sat up as she came down, watching her. He licked his fingers, smirking. "You taste good, too, fraulein," he breathed in her ear before kissing her. She could taste her own spent arousal on his tongue, which she found surprisingly exciting.

She wanted him, now. She had to have him. Ema tugged at his belt, wanting to free him as quickly as possible. He helped her, and together they tugged the buckle free. He allowed her to pull open the button and drag down the zipper, and her hands found their way into his pants, cupping him through his underwear. He moaned into her mouth, thrusting his hips forward against her curious hands. He was big, bigger than she had expected, and she wanted him inside her to feel him stretching her, filling her. She pushed his pants down his hips and he broke off the kiss to kick them off the bed.

She hooked her legs around him, grinding against him through his boxer briefs in hopes of pushing him to finally take her. He groaned, trying to resist her, but didn't hold on for long. The last barrier between them vanished to the floor. She eyed what she was about to have inside her, wanting him desperately. His cock was glorious as the rest of him. He positioned himself at her entrance, ready, but he lifted his eyebrows at her in question. She nodded, and he entered her slowly, a pace so agonizing that she could hardly stand it. Ema would admit that she had been through a bit of a dry spell, but even in her freer Europe she'd never felt so full before. For his part, Klavier seemed to also be aware of how well they fit together, judging by the pleasure that filled his expression.

He pulled out of her and then drove in again, burying himself to the hilt. She exclaimed, surprised, but enjoying the roughness of it. He repeated the same gesture, savoring the feel of her. She dug her nails into his back and arched her back into him. He picked up the pace, thrusting faster. He pressed his face into her neck and rested his weight on his elbows as he focused on his rhythm.

Ema rocked her hips in time with him as they found their best pace, a punishing rhythm that was driving her higher and higher. His breath, hot in her ear, spurred her farther still. Her body was completely out of her own control, a slave to the sensation.

She was close to release again, and she tightened around him. He bit her along her jaw. "Say my name," he whispered. She complied, her voice barely audible, but she knew that wasn't what he wanted. He continued to pound into her, bumping once again into her most sensitive spot. He moved a hand to her clit to push her over the final barrier.

It didn't take long. She came powerfully, the world around her shattering into a million, pleasured pieces. He controlled himself, holding on through her orgasm, even though she got even tighter around him after she came. She dragged her nails down his back and moved them around to cup his ass, pulling him deeper still so that he'd finally join her at the highest ecstasy.

He thrust a final time, the deepest he'd gone, and released. She milked him for all he had, loving the sensation. He collapsed for a moment as he recovered, thrusting shallowly into her as he came down from his orgasm.

He pulled out of her, rolling on to his side. He slung an arm over her and pressed his face into her hair. A languid, sleepy afterglow spread into her limbs. She pressed her face into his chest, satisfied.

He tilted her face up to meet his and kissed her softly, tracing the shape of her mouth with his tongue. She felt the flame ignite inside her again and she hooked her leg around him. His hand slid up her thigh. "You're not done yet, fraulein?" he said.

"Not quite," she replied, grinning.

He shook his head with false irritation. "Well, I suppose we'll have to take care of that, ja?" he said.

He rolled her beneath him, and she lost herself in him once more.

A/N: Well, this chapter was a long time coming, but I made it! I'm actually pretty happy with how it turned out. I apologize again for the delay – it was a series of factors that led to it.

Let me know what you think, now that things have gotten steamy. ;) I just love these two, heehee.


	3. Turnabout Mistake

Magnetism

_TURNABOUT MISTAKE_

A/N: Hreyyyy. We're back again. This chapter is probably going to be shorter than the last one, but it's going to be a bridge to a lot of what happens later. I'm hoping to churn out the next two chapters in pretty quick succession, since I know I've been pretty slow in my production. :P #collegeprobs

Welp, see you at the end!

* * *

**November 1, 2025**

**10:13 a.m.  
****Klavier Gavin's Apartment**

Ema woke with a start, blinking hard. The first thing she noticed was the pounding in her head – she wasn't a frequent drinker and the immediate symptoms of her hangover caught her off-guard. The sunlight pouring in from the window amplified the ache between her eyes.

The next thing she discovered was that she was naked. She remembered her outfit from the night before, and wasn't surprised that it had been discarded in her haste to sleep.

She sat up, pressing her hands hard into her eyes in an attempt to sooth her headache, when she realized there was another person beside her. She glanced to her right and recoiled. Klavier Gavin was sprawled out on his side, the sheet tucked around his waist. His eyes were closed, but he was facing her, his blonde hair tossed haphazardly across the pillow.

_Oh, wait…oh, no… _Her memories of the previous evening came flooding back, and she was surprised by how much she had enjoyed being with him, how he took her to a place she'd never been. He was, by far, the most attractive and skilled man she'd ever slept with – something she assumed he was probably aware of, too.

Her instincts kicked in, and she immediately wanted to flee the apartment before he woke up. It would be bad enough seeing him at work on Monday, but she wanted to avoid the post-sex conversation for as long as possible.

And she didn't want him to have the pleasure of knowing that he'd bested her, and that she'd felt pleasure with him that she didn't know she could feel.

She eased out of bed and ducked into the attached bathroom, splashing water on her face. Her eye makeup had smeared around her eyes, making her look like a raccoon, and most of her foundation had melted off. She wiped her face down with a washcloth, hoping it wouldn't be obvious that she'd used it. As Ema worked to make herself feel presentable, she noticed a red splotch on her throat.

The mark glared at her from the mirror, standing out obviously from her fair skin. It was positioned just at the base of her throat, toward the front. It would be tough to hide. Of course, forgetting about her night with the fop wasn't going to be easy.

_Damn it, he would do something like that, _she thought bitterly, throwing the washcloth at the mirror to make her image vanish. She left the bathroom quickly, unwilling to examine the hickey further.

It was as she was gathering her belongings that she realized she had no way of getting home from the apartment on her own, and she would look mighty strange wandering around downtown Los Angeles in her revealing hula dancer costume. She knew her cell phone had to be somewhere in the living room area, based on her hazy memory of events. Ema grabbed a soft, grey bathrobe off of a hook near the bedroom door and headed toward the living room.

Her wristlet had been tossed away toward the couch and close to the front door. She fished out her cell phone and a small, travel bag of Snackoos that she kept for emergencies. If this wasn't an emergency, she didn't know what was.

Ema had missed seven calls and three texts from Lana, and several from Phoenix Wright as well, who had likely been enlisted by her sister to help find her. Ema dialed Lana's number, knowing her sister would be waiting on edge until she checked in.

"Ema! Oh my God, you had me so worried," Lana chastised after several rings. Ema sighed. She was going to have to acknowledge what she'd done to another soul. "Where are you?"

"Um, that's the thing…" She fidgeted, biting off half of a Snackoo and savoring its soothing, chocolate flavor. "I'm, uh…at the fop's…"

There was silence on the other end for a long while. "Ema, you…you _didn't_!" There was obvious amusement in Lana's voice. "Well, to be honest, that's where I hoped you were when you weren't answering my messages."

"You _hoped_?!" Ema exclaimed. "Lana, this is HORRIBLE! I've made a terrible mistake!"

Lana chuckled. "It happens to the best of us, Em," she said. "So, I'm assuming you need help getting home?"

Ema sighed. "Y—Yes," she mumbled. "That would be very helpful." Ema popped in another Snackoo.

"How soon?"

"Soon, please. As soon as –" She was interrupted by calloused hands grasping her by the waist. Klavier bit off half of her Snackoo, brushing his mouth against hers. Ema froze, and he took the phone from her, a wicked grin on his face.

"Guten morgen, Fraulein Skye," he drawled. Ema couldn't quite make out what Lana's reply was, but she could hear the sound of surprise in her sister's muffled voice. "Ema is quite fine. I'll see to it that she makes it home." Ema wanted to flee, recoil from him, but his hands held her firm. "Of course. Goodbye." He snapped her phone shut, tossing it on the sofa. He tugged lightly on the tie of the bathrobe. "I think this belongs to me," he said in her ear, nuzzling into the side of her neck.

"Oh, no you don't," Ema protested, pushing him away. She backed up toward the kitchen, appraising him as she shifted. He had merely thrown on a pair of boxer briefs before coming into the living room. His blonde hair fell in loose waves down his shoulders, out of its usual braid. She remembered how beautiful she'd found him just hours before, and how badly she wanted to taste and touch every inch of his tan skin.

He followed, laughing. "Fraulein, you're stuck with me, now," he teased, pinning her against the counter of a large island in the middle of the kitchen. "Your sister is trusting me with your welfare."

Ema glared at him. "How dare you? You got me drunk and took advantage of me. You're obviously _very_ concerned about my welfare."

His eyebrows lifted, surprised by her retort. "Prickly as always, are we?" He pulled again on the ties of the bathrobe, this time loosening it by a fraction.

"I didn't ask to be dragged into your sex den, like one of those girls at your stupid concerts," Ema continued. Klavier didn't move to free her, and he appeared to be entertained by the exchange.

"Fraulein, I almost never bring women here," he said simply, shrugging. "And there has never been one so bold as to stand in my kitchen and accuse me of taking advantage of them, all while wearing my bathrobe." He leaned in again, planting several soft kisses along her jaw. "I like your sharp _tongue_, fraulein."

Ema was immediately torn. Her skin heated up under his touch, and she felt her heart rate quicken at the suggestion there. However, her common sense told her that allowing him in again was a bad idea. His hands wandered, loosening the bathrobe further to expose one of her breasts. _Oh, no…this is bad, this is very bad, _she thought. But her body rebelled against her mind, and she didn't push him away, instead leaning her head to the side to give him better access. She felt him chuckle as he nosed the hickey he'd left behind the night before. He massaged his thumb across her nipple, catching her by surprise. She gasped as the sensation spiked down to her groin. As his touch grew rougher, tugging and pinching, his lips met hers. He nibbled on her bottom lip, and she groaned, her defenses gone.

Her hands explored Klavier's exposed torso, tracing the lines of his musculature. She dragged her fingers across the waistband of his boxer briefs, and he groaned into her mouth. He pulled the bathrobe off, leaving her naked in his kitchen. She swept her gaze down the length of him, taking in the dark look in his eyes and the bulge growing in his underwear.

He crushed himself against her again, crashing his mouth down on hers with bruising force. His hand slid down her thigh and pulled it up around his waist, pressing his groin into hers. She moaned at the friction, biting down on his lip. She cupped him through the final barrier of fabric, slipping a hand inside the fly and stroking him. She wanted to do what she hadn't had a chance to the night before and taste him. She trailed her mouth down his stomach as she pulled the briefs off, tossing them aside.

He seemed surprised by her forwardness. She stared at him for a moment, having forgotten how glorious he was. He was hard and ready for her. She wrapped her lips around his head, swirling her tongue around the most sensitive spot. She ran her tongue up and down the length of his shaft before taking as much of him into her mouth as she could, sucking deeply.

She pumped her hand along the exposed part of her shaft as she continued to tease him with her tongue. He fisted a hand in her hair, thrusting lightly into her mouth as she sucked. She looked up and met his eyes, which were filled with want and need for her. Ema fondled his balls with her free hand, and she could tell she was driving him to the brink.

"Ema, I'm going to come," he managed, gritting his teeth. She continued to suck him off as she thought over her options. If she allowed him to find release now, she'd have to wait to have him again, but during that time he'd be free to send her to oblivion with that skillful tongue. If she stopped, she could immediately fill herself with his huge, beautiful cock. She could taste the precum spilling from him, a salty prequel to the rest.

Ema chose the latter option, pulling away from him and licking her lips in satisfaction. He grabbed her roughly, pulling her to her feet and kissing her again. His length was so close, near her stomach, and her body cried out for it. Knowing that she could please him so fully had made her very excited, she could feel the wetness against her thighs.

His tongue roughly explored the inside of her mouth, attacking her own forcefully. He backed up, pulling her toward the living room sofa. He broke off the kiss, and much to her surprise, reclined on his back, gesturing for her to take the lead. She straddled his waist, grazing her teeth across his collarbone. He cupped her ass, trying to lead her on to him, but she resisted, prolonging the tension as she dragged her tongue along the hollow at the base of his throat.

Klavier's hands slid lower, and he slipped one finger inside her, teasing her with the suggestion of what was to come. Ema finally could resist no longer and shifted, sheathing herself around him. He grunted, surprised by her forwardness. She lifted slowly before impaling herself on him again, slowly rotating her hips to take him deeper. He helped her find the right rhythm, thrusting his hips up against her movements.

She balanced herself by placing a hand in the middle of his chest. His wandered across her, and she felt like they were everywhere at once, a force of unstoppable pleasure. Finally, he paused, massaging his thumb across her hungry, swollen clit. She cried out, the sensation overwhelming.

Ema was out of her own body, engulfed the pleasure that seemed to have replaced everything else. Her head fell back as she continued to ride him, allowing herself to become a slave to the sensation. Her muscles tightened as she careened toward release. She clenched around him and it was enough to send him over the edge. Klavier came, and she relished the feel of his hot seed inside of her.

A few more pumps and she came, too, her entire body shuddering wildly. The earth split open beneath her, leaving only the feel of him inside her and the loss of control. She came down, blinking, and eased herself off of his softening shaft. _Oh, no. I did it again. _The realization hit her, hard – she was usually not this impulsive. "I, uh, should probably clean up…" she mumbled, attempting to flee just as she had that morning.

Klavier stood, as if to join her. "All right, let's –"

"No!" Ema exclaimed, catching him by surprise. "I mean, I just, uh…want to go by myself. No big deal, scientifically speaking."

He lifted an eyebrow, but gestured with his arm that she was free to go. "Take your time, then, fraulein," he said. She quickly retreated into his bedroom, and then through to the plush bathroom.

The shower stall was large and featured two different heads – one main one near the top and a second, smaller one that pelted Ema in the back. The sensation was welcome, one that helped to kick start her reverie. She needed to think – in the past twelve hours, she'd completely abandoned her usual, composed demeanor and made a huge error.

An error she repeated several times after.

She rested her forehead on the tile at the back of the shower, the second head now massaging her stomach. The coolness of the tile helped center her thinking in the midst of the steamy shower. _I just slept with my boss, whom I hate, _she thought, squeezing her eyes shut as if to block out the memory. _And now I have to deal with it._

This was the part she wasn't prepared for. She wished she'd brought the rest of her emergency Snackoos into the shower to steady her thoughts. _Scientifically speaking, we can pretend that this never happened when we see each other again on Monday. Right?_

She wanted to talk it through with Lana. Her older sister was the only person who could make Ema feel right about this. Lana would clear up all of her doubts – she hoped, anyway.

Ema glanced around, looking for soap. She spotted a bottle of shampoo on a small shelf bumping out of the wall. She was surprised that it was a very neutral scent, she'd expected something a bit more flowery from the fop.

She massaged her scalp, soothing her confused thoughts. _This is a disaster._

She rinsed the shampoo off, watching the remnants of it swirl down the sink, and Ema wished that her own mistakes would vanish with it. She snatched up a bar of soap – it was also unscented – and quickly lathered up the rest of her body before turning off the hot spray.

She toweled off in a hurry. _I need to get out of here._

When she stepped into the bedroom, Klavier was nowhere to be found. Ema threw on her Halloween costume from the night before, hoping that she'd be able to cover up most of her strange outfit with her jacket. She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror for a moment, glaring again the the bright, pink welt, before heading into the living room.

He was on the phone. "Nein, we need to move that song to the second disc," he spat, obviously seething. "Well, if you're not going to do as I ask, then there's no reason to call me, ja?" He hung up, tossing his cell phone on to the sofa beside him.

He hadn't noticed her. Ema cleared her throat loudly, and he turned, lewdly examining the length of her. She glower at him. "I…should probably go," she said.

At her bluntness, he laughed. "You're never one to sugarcoat things, fraulein," he said. He rose from the coach, and she saw he'd changed into a pair of jeans and a tight-fitting black v-neck tee. Klavier had tied his hair to one side, but neglected to braid it fully in his haste. He regarded her for another moment, a smirk on his lips. "You should dress like this more often, it suits you."

Ema crossed her arms over her chest, not backing down. He was intimidating, though, she had to admit – especially when he was staring at her like he wanted to devour her. _It wasn't that long ago that I was thinking the same thing, _she realized. She buried the thought, refusing to allow him the pleasure of knowing how fully he'd bested her. "Don't bother with flattery, fop," she retorted.

His smirk widened into a mischievous grin. "As you wish, fraulein," he said, lowering his head in a mock bow. Ema wasn't sure if she wanted to strangle him or rip his clothes off. Maybe both. She spotted her coat on a hook by the door and quickly shrugged it on, grabbing her wristlet from the coffee table as she did so. He held out her phone, which had been knocked onto the carpet in their frenzied passion. She tucked it in her coat pocket and led the way out the door.

On the ride down, she gave him Lana's address instead of her own. Her sister lived much closer to his apartment. She didn't explain that they weren't headed to her place, but based on his expression, she figured he knew.

_One step ahead, _she thought. _Why am I not surprised?_

**November 1, 2025  
****12:02 p.m.  
****Lana Skye's Apartment**

When they pulled up outside Lana's apartment building, the silence was tense and awkward. Ema had refused to speak or even look at him during the ride, which had been thankfully short. "Well, fraulein – "

She interrupted him by obnoxiously banging the car door open, not wanting to hear what he had to say. "Well, goodbye," she said quickly, hurrying out to the sidewalk. Klavier grabbed her hand, holding her back. She bent over into the car, staring at him.

"I'll see you soon, Ema," he said huskily, kissing the back of her hand. She felt a shiver run up her spine. He didn't break eye contact with her as he released her. She slammed the door shut and fled, disliking the way he made her feel.

She banged loudly on Lana's door when she reached the third floor. Lana opened it, blinking at her. "Ema…?" she mumbled, sighing. "You could have knocked a little quieter, you know."

Ema pushed past her and into the apartment, shaking her head. "Lana, I can't believe you let me do that," she said. "And that you trusted him this morning! He seduced me, _again_! Right after we hung up!"

Lana stared at her distraught sister for a moment, and then burst out laughing. "Seduced you, huh? He must have been pretty good in bed last night to convince you soberly."

Ema felt her skin heat up in embarrassment. Images of them together flashed through her memory. "That's—that's not the point," she stammered. "I hate him, Lana! That's the problem here."

Lana wrapped an arm around her, pulling her down on to the couch. "Em, you need to relax. So you had sex, big deal. You're twenty-five years old, plenty of people your age have had one-night stands."

"Yeah, sure, with people they don't know," Ema continued. "But not with their BOSSES. Whom they _hate_ and would never want to sleep with." She buried her face in her hands, sighing.

"Look, Ema, I hate to say this, but you're avoiding it – are you sure you didn't want to, at all? I mean, it didn't take much for you to give in," Lana countered. "Once you had a few drinks in you, you were all about it."

Ema didn't look up. "N—No! No way! I would never! Not with that, that fop!"

"That's what you said before the party, and now you've slept with him. Several times. How many exactly, anyway? I thought you were going to give me the details, not freak out."

She peeked up at Lana through her fingers, blushing profusely. "Th—three times. Counting this morning," she mumbled, her voice barely audible. "It was…very good."

Lana grinned. "That seems obvious," she teased. "Ema, don't be ashamed, okay? You did it, it happened – but obviously it wasn't the complete horror you thought it would be." She paused thoughtfully. "And it sounded like he was pretty pleased himself based on my conversation with him this morning…"

Ema's blush deepened. She hadn't really thought of his perspective in all of this – and she had to admit that Lana might have been on to something. "Well, uh…he did say he doesn't really bring girls to his apartment…"

Lana squeezed her sister's shoulder. "Well, he obviously wanted you there," she said. "Just relax. We can figure out a game plan for you for Monday, okay?"

Ema wasn't sure she was ready for that.

* * *

A/N: Well, I'm trying to work these out faster, but it's been very hard for me, time-wise. I'm just a busy lady.

I wasn't sure if I liked them having sex again so quickly, but I thought it would be fun to portray Ema just getting caught up in the moment, because it would underscore her thought process a bit. She's going to be really stuck in that loop – "That was really enjoyable, but it's such a mistake."

She'll get over it. Eventually.

I'm going to try to crank out the next chapter quickly (fingers-crossed!), so look for that soon, hopefully!

xoxo


	4. Turnabout Reluctance

Magnetism  
_TURNABOUT RELUCTANCE_

**A/N: Look at me, bolding my author's notes and shit. I'm getting used to this uploader, so hopefully my posts won't be so messy. I'm going to try to go back and clean up the other ones a bit in the future.**

I am also so, so glad that people are enjoying this story. I was so disappointed by the M-rated Klema fics hanging around, but I wasn't sure if I would actually get anywhere by taking matters into my own hands. I guess I did! Kind of!

Anyway,**Ema****is going to keep exploring her sexuality for now, so let's get to it. I'm going to be experimenting a bit with different scenes, so they don't get old. Hopefully it works.**

See you at the end. ;)

_

**November 5, 2025**

**10:28 a.m.**

**Ema Skye's Office**

So far so good, at least for Ema Skye.

Her plan to avoid her boss-turned-temporary-sex-partner Klavier Gavin had been going swimmingly since her return to work on Monday after their weekend of sexual depravity – or how she had decided to categorize their little weekend transgression..

She had already made it to Wednesday without looking at him or speaking to him or acknowledging him in any way. It seemed like the safest course for the time being, as she would prefer not to find herself in his sketchy sex den any time soon.

She could keep it up, right? They hadn't gotten any new cases yet that week, and without an investigation, there was little need to see one another. She almost liked it – he had always been a pain to deal with, anyway, and she liked having a good excuse not to talk to him.

Ema stretched her arms over her head and leaned back into her desk chair, sighing. _Who am I kidding?_

Despite what she wished, it was hopeless. She was screwed. Klavier would always reappear in her life somewhere, and she couldn't keep up her avoidance plan for long. The phone rang, and she winced. Lana did warn her that she'd have to own up her to actions sooner rather than later…

**November 2, 2012**

**3:47 p.m.**

**Maria's Café**

"You're going to have to deal with it sometime, Em," Lana said. "There's nothing wrong with having sex with someone."

"Yeah, someone," Ema retorted. "Not the fop, Lana! This is the absolute worst. I have to go into the office tomorrow, and what am I going to say? 'Hello, fop! Thanks for the fantastic romp, let's get to investigating!' " She buried her face in her hands, sighing. "Goddamn it."

Lana sighed, taking a sip of her latte. "Ema, please. You're being ridiculous about this."

"Ridiculous?!" At that, she lifted her gaze back to her sister's face and eyed her indignantly. "I am not equipped, scientifically speaking, to deal with this embarrassment. I'm going to look like a huge slut if everyone finds out, and that's not okay with me. Geez."

Lana shrugged. "Look, half of Criminal Affairs is after Gavin in one form or another, so you should be proud." She returned her sister's glare with equal force, undaunted. "Why would anyone find out, anyway, Em? Mr. Gavin doesn't seem like the type to cause you trouble like that, whether you like him or not."

Ema wanted to throw her coffee across the room, splatter it on the wall and take out her frustration on inanimate object instead of her sister, who was being extraordinarily difficult. "Lana, I know you think this was a good thing for me, but it wasn't. If I could take it all back, I would. Being under the fop's power is just not something I really want for myself."

"You know, you can just move on and continue your professional relationship. It happened, so what? You don't have to go out to dinner with him or sleep with him again or whatever else you have floating around in your head. You're going to have to accept the fact that you made the conscious decision to have sex with him – and you can't blame it entirely on the alcohol either, little sister."

"But every time I see him, it will be there in the back of my mind, Lana," Ema continued, sighing. She stared into her coffee, watching the foam dissipate from the top. "You know me. I'm not the type of person who can easily just forget things. Every investigation, every report, it will be in my head, replaying."

"Maybe that's where you real problem is, Ema." Ema didn't like where her sister was going with this, but she allowed Lana to finish. "You're afraid of how you really feel."

At that, she slammed her palm down on the table. "Lana, I do not have _feelings _for _the fop!_" She was making a scene in the café, and she knew it, but she couldn't let that idea even stand.

Lana didn't appear perturbed at Ema's behavior. "Yelling isn't going to change it," she said simply. "Quit being a baby, Ema. You had a great time, there's no reason to regret it. Quit making excuses for yourself…and _grow up_." She finished her coffee and stood to leave.

Ema stared at her blankly, surprised by her sister's bluntness. "Wh—What?"

Lana's eyes spoke irritation. "Are you coming? We're obviously not getting anywhere talking about this, so you can figure it out for yourself, Ema."

Ema shot out of her seat, throwing her jacket on over her lab coat. "S—Sure."

She followed her sister out, knowing she was on her own to deal with her mistake.

**November 5, 2025**

**10:31 a.m.**

**Ema Skye's Office**

The phone continued to ring, shrilly pulling Ema from her reverie. "Damn it all," she muttered under her breath. She grabbed the receiver from its cradle. "Criminal Affairs, Homicide Department. Ema Skya speaking."

"Fraulein, there's a briefing on our new case in an hour." She knew it was going to be him. Obviously, with all the effort she'd been putting in to avoid him, he would finally make an appearance. She felt her breath catch and hoped he didn't hear it.

"I wasn't told about a briefing," she huffed. "Or about a new case."

He laughed. She assumed he could picture the scowl on her face through the phone. "Well, now you know. The case itself is relatively routine, but it's the second starlet killed in Los Angeles in the past month, so they want to hold a briefing. The killings aren't connected, as far as we can tell, but the chief of police wants to make sure they have a PR plan in place to deal with such a high-profile case. We'll go to the scene after the meeting, fraulein."

Ema didn't answer right away. _All day…with him. This is a nightmare._ "Right. Of course. An hour. Goodbye." She heard him start to say something, but she hung up abruptly, cutting him off. She didn't want to hear his voice any more. Her body reacted to the sound, remembering the seductive way he'd whispered in her ear just days before.

Since Ema had an hour to kill before the meeting, she decided this was a perfect opportunity to steel herself mentally before she had to finally deal with the problem she'd been avoiding. She shot Lana a text: "Briefing today. Should have known this plan wouldn't work."

Lana, never missing a beat, quickly responded: "You mean the part where you act like a baby?"

Ema hoped her sister felt the glower she was sending her through text: "You're such a bitch."

She could hear Lana's chuckle in her head as she read the response: "And you're being stupid. Best of luck, Em. ;)"

Trying to garner some encouragement from Lana only wasted about fifteen minutes. She still had a good half an hour to attempt to mentally prepare herself to face him. She puttered around her office, even going so far as attempted to reorganize the reports in her filing cabinet, before she ended up pacing sullenly in front of her desk.

_Fuck everything, fuck it all. Scientifically speaking, this is the worst day of my life._

**November 5, 2025**

**11:32 a.m.**

**Criminal Affairs Conference Room**

Ema wasn't sure if the hallway was exceedingly warm or if it was just her mind playing tricks on her. She felt overheated, uncomfortable in the lab coat she wore everywhere. _Maybe someone was just playing with the thermostat._

She always ran a little late and was one of the last people to reach the conference room on the fourth floor. "Sorry, I'm here," she muttered sheepishly to the chief of police, refusing to acknowledge Klavier in any way.

He, however, had a habit of forcing his way into her consciousness. As they filed in the briefing, he leaned in close behind her and whispered, "Better late than never, fraulein." She felt his breath tickle her ear and she stiffened, immediately uncomfortable. _That bastard._

He pulled out a chair for her. Ema glared at him, refusing the gesture, but he was relentless. As she moved toward the seat he slid his hand almost unnoticeably across the small of her back. No one else in the room spotted it, but she felt it, and hated the way his fingertips burned her through three layers of cotton as they dragged across her skin. He sat beside her as if nothing had happened, but by the smirk on his face, she knew he was very aware that he had once again bested her.

Klavier did not acknowledge Ema in any way during the briefing. The case was simple enough – a young and popular model had been shot. Her manager-boyfriend had been taken into custody, and was the most likely suspect for the murder.

Ema felt the familiar twitch to get investigating as the briefing continued. When the chief of police started going over public relations procedures, Ema found herself itching to get to the scene.

"Well, Detective Skye, there are already some forensic technicians at the scene, so I suppose I should let you get investigating, hmm?" the chief asked.

Ema blinked, surprised. "Oh, umm…yes, absolutely. Thank you, sir."

The police chief waved for everyone to leave. Ema hung back, hoping to avoid Klavier, but he was on to her, and she found herself alone with him in the hallway. She shot a quick glance over her shoulder, and saw there was no sign of anyone coming to rescue her. _Damn._

He appraised her for a long moment, before slowly sliding his fingertips down her forearm. "We should probably have a conversation, fraulein," he said. He lifted her hand to his lips, keeping his eyes on hers. Ema froze. She wanted so badly to escape, but she was rooted to the spot. He kissed the back of her hand, barely a brush of his mouth, then slid his lips down her knuckles. She shivered, feeling the sensation spike down her body. For the briefest of moments he sucked on the tip of her index finger before releasing her. She couldn't speak, and her breath was coming in hard and out of control. He eyed her before leaning in close to her ear. "Race you to the scene, _Ema_."

Klavier stalked off, leaving her stuck in place, unable to move, or even think. _What the hell? _She wondered if he felt her shudder with desire, and knew deep down that he had – and likely, that he would be very willing to make her do it again.

She crossed her arms over her chest, having finally regained her composure, and stomped to her office. "How dare he," she muttered under her breath. "Who does he think he is?"

She slung her messenger bag over her shoulder and rode the elevator down, dreading the rest of her day with the glimmerous fop.

**November 5, 2025**

**12:48 p.m.**

**Sunset Towers Penthouse**

Once at the scene, Ema immediately began barking orders to the lab techs, hoping to avoid any conversation that could stem from the fact that Klavier had beaten her there. He, as usual, allowed her to take the lead and merely watched as she bossed the forensic team around. "We were given a summary of the victim's condition at the briefing, but is any additional preliminary information available on the cause of death?" The victim's body – 20-year-old Eleena Posey – was still on the scene, so an autopsy had yet to be performed. Ema knelt beside the young girl as the tech answered.

"Not much that you likely haven't already heard, ma'am," he said. "The likely cause of death was a single gunshot wound to the forehead, though there is some noticeable bruising around her neck as well." Ema pulled on a pair of gloves and gently tilted the girl's head. There were handprint-like bruises circling her throat. "The victim was shot at point blank, as there is noticeable gunpowder burn around the wound, as I'm sure you can see, ma'am."

Ema had already deduced that herself, but allowed the forensic tech to continue. "Anything else?" she asked, looking up. The tech shook his head.

"The case we have so far is pretty open and shut," the tech said. "The victim's boyfriend – who has been taken in for questioning – was the only person see with her all day, and he had the murder weapon on his person when he was arrested. The weapon hasn't been fully examined yet, and we still need to perform some ballistics tests, but a palm print matching the suspect was found in a shape similar to that used to hold and fire the weapon."

"Well, let's see what we can find, hmm?" Ema rummaged in her bag for a small notepad and jotted down what she'd gleaned from the techs to use in her report. She then returned to examining the body. The victim was positioned a little too normally for her taste. "Is there any chance the body was moved? The victim looks like she is taking a nap, not like she was just shot in the face."

One of the techs shrugged. "We've been examining other parts of the scene more prominently, detective," she replied. "We didn't want to disturb the body too much before the coroner had a chance to examine it."

Ema snapped her fingers at Klavier, who was reclining against the wall boredly. "Make yourself useful and bring me some fingerprint powder, would you?"

He smirked, snagging a fingerprinting kit from the techs. As he handed it to her, he breathed, "Bossy as ever, aren't you, fraulein?"

_I am being seduced over a dead body. I need to find a new line of work. _She snatched it from him, rolling her eyes. "Feel free to go back to whatever you were doing, fop," she spat. He laughed before leaving her side. Lightly, she dusted the powder over the young girl's limbs, hoping to find a trace of oil left behind by someone's hands.

Ema continued to bustle around the scene, bumping the techs out of the way to do her own forensic investigating. This was when she felt most in her element, and even a pair of very distracting blue eyes weren't going to keep her from discovering everything the scene could tell her.

One of the techs interrupted her. "Uh, ma'am…" Ema started at the tap on her shoulder. "The coroner has arrived outside to remove the body. I think we've done all we can do for now."

Ema huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Oh, all right. I suppose that's true." She headed for the elevator when Klavier grabbed her elbow.

"Fraulein, I expect a report on my desk in two hours." This was an order, which was a rare thing from him. "If I don't see you in that time, I will come find you." The threat was sensual, she could tell by his voice, but she didn't want to push her luck and end up with him coming after her. And in that moment he was far too close for her brain to continue functioning properly.

"All right, I hear you!" she snapped, wrenching herself from his grasp. "You ask for two hours? You'll have a report in half that, fop."

He watched her go, and she knew he was laughing at her.

_I'm an idiot. Damn it all to hell._

**November 5, 2025**

**4:24 p.m.**

**Klavier Gavin's Office**

Ema took slightly longer than the hour she originally promised to get the report completed and on his desk, but when she arrived she slammed it down on the large stereo's surface with a dramatic flair. Klavier lifted his eyebrows at her, but the smirk still settled on his mouth. "That took you more than an hour, fraulein," he said, watching her.

She stuck her tongue out at him, and the way his eyes flashed made her instantly regret it. "You originally gave me two and I beat that, _fop_," she countered, looking away from him.

He stood, shaking his head. "You are decidedly predictable," he told her, pacing around to the other side of his desk. "But I like that about you."

Ema took a large step back, trying to reach the door. He kept pace with her. "I, uh…really should go, I mean…" she stammered. "I have to transfer some evidence from the Dawson case, and uh…"

"That's the best excuse you've got?" He paused. "You owe me a conversation, Ema. You can transfer evidence later. I'll even give you _a hand_ if it's that desperate." She shook her head emphatically, but he continued to advance on her. She found her back up against the door, and he fixed her there, putting his hands on either side of her shoulders. "Are you desperate, fraulein?" His voice had dropped to a husky sound that sent a tingle down her spine. He leaned in close to her ear, his lips brushing the lobe. "I'd be glad to help you…"

Ema's hands came up into his chest to push him away, but he was relentless. Klavier's mouth wandered down her throat, his touch slow and so soft that she hardly felt it. "St—Stop," she managed, but he ignored her, one of his hands sliding down to her waist. "Wait, you wanted to talk. Let's talk, okay? Please?" She hated to beg, but she wanted to find an escape.

He pulled back, looking into her eyes. "You're afraid of me," he said simply. "And of yourself, and what you want." He didn't look that interested in a long conversation. She stared at him, surprised by his forwardness – and his ability to read her mind. "I slept with you because I wanted to. And you wanted it, too, the same as me. There's nothing to be ashamed of. And I want to do it again."

She couldn't speak. Ema's mouth bobbed open uselessly as the words caught in her throat. He leaned down and kissed her, his mouth insistent on hers. She found herself returning his kiss, her hands fisting in his jacket to pull him closer. He groaned into her mouth and kissed her harder, his free hand sliding her lab coat over her shoulders and on to the floor. "W—Wait, stop," she said.

He did, leaning away from her. "Something you want to say?"

She looked away, dropping her gaze to the pool of white fabric at her feet. "There are no feelings between us," she mumbled.

Klavier leaned closer. "Care to repeat that?"

"No feelings," she repeated, louder this time. "Just sex. _Only sex._ Okay?"

"I thought you'd never ask," he said, and his mouth came crashing back down on hers. He pulled on the buttons of her vest, ripping it open. She exclaimed, looking down as she heard one of the buttons bounce onto the floor. "Something wrong?"

"A little slower…" she murmured.

"We don't have much time to spare, fraulein," he said simply, before kissing her again. He parted her lips with his tongue, massaging against hers as he slowly undid the top several buttons on her blouse. He went to trail his mouth down her chin, but she rebelled, pulling on his bottom lip with her teeth. He hissed, digging his fingers into her hips, before inch his lips toward the pulse point of her throat.

His hands continued to wander across her. He hooked a finger into the cup of her exposed bra, pushing her breast up and out. She moaned when he rubbed his thumb over her exposed nipple, and he kissed her to swallow the sound. Much to her surprise, he hooked his arms under her thighs and hauled her over to his desk, leaning her on the edge.

He bit her collarbone before planting a trail of soft kisses down her sternum. He took her nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as he tugged open the button on her capri pants. With her help, he slid them down her hips and down around her ankles. Her hands traced the fly of his jeans, cupping him through the fabric, and he bit her nipple in response, making her gasp. Gracefully, she popped the clasp on his belt, allowing her to slide her hands under the waistband of his pants. He rocked his hips against her touch, and she was floored once again by the fact that she could do this to him, that she could make him this way.

Suddenly, he grabbed her roughly and turned her over so that she was bending over the surface of his desk. She exclaimed, surprised. His hands trailed over her ass, sliding the thin fabric of her panties down as he went. They joined her capris around her ankles.

She wasn't prepared for him to slap her ass, just hard enough that there was a moment of stinging followed by a heat the spiked down between her thighs. He slapped her a second time and she gasped, just as unprepared. He knelt behind her and kissed her where a moment before his hand had been. Then he ran the flat of his tongue up the length of her slit, earning a moan. She rocked her hips back against him, wanting more, always more.

He grazed his teeth against the inside of her thigh before standing again. "I had almost forgotten how good you taste, fraulein," he said, his husky voice making her even wetter. She wanted him inside her, stretching her, filling her, taking her.

"Please," was all she could manage. She heard the sound of his zipper coming open and before she realized what was happening he'd buried himself to the hilt inside of her. She cried out, both from surprise and pleasure, clawing at the edge of his desk to brace herself. He pulled out and buried himself again.

They quickly found a rhythm, punishing and powerful. Ema almost couldn't keep her balance as he drove into her over and over. He hit the most sensitive spot deep inside her again and again, and her body felt beyond her control and her vision was blurry from the overwhelming sensation. She rotated her hips, taking him deeper into her and earned a groan in thanks.

His grip on her waist was almost painfully tight, and he didn't let up into he felt her tighten around him. She was on the edge of the precipice and the tension had built to an unbearable level. His hand slid down the front of her mound before swirling her fingers around her clit. She moaned, urging him on.

She came first, the sensation exploding through her body and tearing the world around her into shreds. He let go, too, slamming into her a final time before releasing. The heat of him spilling inside her sent another spike through her orgasm before she shagged onto the desk, spent.

As she pulled her capris back up and adjusted her shirt, Klavier asked her, "Why didn't you give me your real address before?"

She stared at him, buttoning up her blouse. "What?"

"Over the weekend. You sent me to your sister's apartment, not yours." He adjusted himself before buttoning his jeans.

Ema sighed. "I was just…a little weirded out. About everything." She attempted to straighten her vest, but the missing button made that hard. "And hey, I could ask you how you knew in the first place."

"I have all that information on file," he said with a shrug. He closed the clasp on his belt, watching her. She couldn't quite look at him, as she wasn't sure what she had agreed to with him.

"I can grill you, too, you know," she retorted. "Like, how you're not too concerned about birth control, even though you never asked me about it."

He closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I get insurance reports on all of my subordinates," he breathed in her ear. "I could name the brand of pill you take."

She opened her mouth to say something mean when he silenced her with a kiss. She returned it for a moment before pushing him away. "That's kind of creepy, you know, fop," she said, but there was a smirk on her mouth. She trailed her fingers across the base of her throat, pulling back toward the door. "And this damn thing just started to fade, so if you gave me another one…you won't know what's coming to you."

She slung her lab coat over her shoulders. "I can't wait to find out, Ema," he said. There was an awkward moment of silence as she reached for the doorknob. She hung back, watching him, before fleeing out the door. She shut it behind her, leaning against it once she was outside.

"Fuck," she muttered to herself. She practically ran to the elevator for the parking garage, dialing her sister's familiar number as she went. When Lana answered, she said, "Well, I guess I'm done acting like a baby."

_What have I gotten myself into now?_

**A/N: And with that, we have reached the end of another chapter. I am so, so sorry that this took so long – I know I said I would try to have this up shortly after chapter three, but the final weeks of the semester just turned into a shitshow and I didn't get this done as quickly as I wanted. But now that it's FINALLY break, maybe I can update sooner rather than later? We'll see.**

**I have a basic idea of where I am going with this story, but I have no idea how long it will be. I am on this journey with all of you, haha, and I am excited to see where it goes next.**

**One another thing…is this too much porn? I don't know. I feel like that's the whole reason I started writing it, so…we'll see. Maybe they won't do anything next chapter (unlikely).**

**See you soon! :) xoxo**


	5. Turnabout Jealousy

Magnetism

_TURNABOUT JEALOUSY_

**A/N: I am so so so sorry about how long it has taken me to post an update. Originally, I was hoping to have this chapter up during my winter break as well, but things just didn't work out. I am so glad to be graduating in just a few months.**

**Anyway, I've been thinking a lot about the amount of smut in this story, so I'm going to tone it down for this chapter, because I think it's time for some RELATIONSHIP DEVELOPMENT (triumphant music). And no, I don't mean confessions of love, but the seeds are growing there, slowly but surely, and I want to move us toward that a bit.**

**There will still be a scene, though, albeit a short one. I JUST CAN'T HELP MYSELF. Everything I write becomes porn, womp. But don't act like you don't like it. ;)**

**Until the end…**

* * *

**December 10, 2025  
****11:27 a.m.  
****Ema Skye's Office**

Some days, Ema Skye knows immediately that she is headed for disaster. Today was one of them.

She woke and as she bustled around her apartment getting ready for work, she realized that she was behind on laundry and was running low on professional attire. She stared at the row of empty hangers and sighed. It was never easy.

She dug out an old skirt. It hugged her frame and the hem skimmed at mid-thigh. Not exactly the most appropriate choice, but it was the best she had. She found a v-neck blouse buried in the back of her closet and shrugged it on, frustrated.

Of course, when she went to apply deodorant, she found she was out. She'd forgotten that she left her new stick in a freshly-emptied shelf in Klavier Gavin's bathroom, alongside a toothbrush and a tube of concealer.

She did the best she could and hoped no one would notice. She grabbed a bottle of body spray just in case of emergency.

Eventually, she made it to her office, and though it was nearing lunchtime, she was waiting for another briefing to start. The Posey case hadn't been a hard one – Ema was proud to say she'd nabbed the right crook, finally – but the paperwork for the perpetrator's sentencing was taking forever and criminal affairs had been slacking off on its public relations "smile," at least according to the chief.

_Which obviously means me,_ Ema thought bitterly. _The fop never fails to put on a cute face for the camera. Wait, I mean…pleasant. Oh, Goddamn it._

She rose from her desk, feeling naked without her trusty lab coat, and grabbed her bag from near the door. As she locked her office, a very familiar voice was at her ear. "Decided to try something different today, ja?" Klavier asked her, eyeing her openly and lewdly in the hallway. No one spotted him, but Ema knew they were on borrowed time with their tryst. "I approve."

Before she answered him, she thought briefly about how this had become commonplace over the past month. It wasn't rare for him to appear at her door and hungrily throw her over her own desk, despite her fear of getting caught. And Ema was becoming far too used to waking up next to him on the weekends. "I've been so busy with this stupid case that I haven't made it to the laundromat in a while," she retorted, scowling at him. "Don't think it's for you."

Klavier skimmed a finger along the hem of her skirt, and she wasn't sure if his touch was agonizingly slow or if her mind was just playing tricks on her. "I would never assume something like that from you," he replied with a shrug, pulling away from her. "Lead the way, fraulein."

Ema paused, unsure if he was going to do something stupid. She wasn't quite comfortable yet with his boldness in public places. "If you do anything weird, fop, _I swear_…"

He looked affronted. "Me? Weird?" She gave him another moment to admit to it. "By weird, you mean…" He wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her hair. "…something like this."

She froze, terrified of being spotted. "Stop, someone will…"

He stepped back from her almost as quickly as he had embraced her, quickly planting a kiss under her ear before retreating. "If you're that afraid, fraulein, I'll lead," he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. He passed her, running his hand along the small of her back, and continued down the hallway.

She glared after him. "Damn."

**December 10, 2025  
****12:19 p.m.  
****Criminal Affairs Conference Room**

They filed in slowly, not particularly interested in another meeting with the chief about the same stupid issue. Ema was especially disinterested. She took a seat near the end of the long conference table, and Klavier sat to her left. She resisted the urge to scoot her chair away from him.

The meeting began as they often do, and Ema soon found herself growing bored. The chief was throwing her covert insults about her interviews with the media, but she had trouble caring. Her job was to investigate, not to be a great source for some money-grubbing, fame-whoring journalist.

Klavier, of course, received nothing but praise for his appearances at press conferences since the two consecutive Hollywood murders. That made Ema seethe in her seat. She sunk down, crossing her arms over her chest.

_Why am I always the one that gets the short end of the stick? _she thought bitterly. She glanced at the prosecutor, who was not looking at her, but had a slight smirk on his lips at her irritating. _Damn him._

The chief continued with his long, drawn out tirade about talking to reporters and ways to portray the precinct in a positive light. She had almost dozed off when a searing touch grazed across her kneecap. She shot Klavier a look, but his face was a blank slate, as if his fingers weren't slowly groping up her leg.

Ema tried to shake him off, sliding her chair a few inches away. But his hand was relentless in its pursuit, caressing each inch of her skin almost reverently.

When he reached the hem of her skirt, she covered his hand with her own and flattened the palm to prevent him from continuing any further. She leaned forward, hissing in his ear, "What the hell are you doing? _Stop._"

He was unfazed by her obvious discomfort. "What are you talking about? Did you forget we're in a meeting?" She had to resist the urge to throttle him on the conference table.

She sat back in her seat, glaring, but did not release his hand, attempting to surreptitiously push it away under the table. He was stealthier than she took him for, however, and when she shifted he broke free of her grasp and slipped his fingers under the edge of her skirt.

Ema froze, feeling the same split, confused reaction that she often did with him. On one hand, her body was reacting quite pleasantly to his touch, which was now skimming closer and closer to her center and she knew from experience that usually ended quite well for her. But, they were also in a conference…with the chief of police of Los Angeles talking about public relations tactics about fifteen feet away. Basically her worst nightmare.

She clenched her thighs on his hand, squeezing as hard as she could to prevent him from advancing any further. Klavier glanced at her and she shook her head. His hand slid away from her, retreating at an agonizing pace. "Later, then, fraulein," he whispered, and she knew it was not a question.

For a moment, she regretted the decision, as she was well aware that it would likely come back to haunt her.

**December 10, 2025  
****1:23 p.m.  
****Ema Skye's Office**

He had followed her the whole way from the conference room, nonchalantly waving at various colleagues and keeping a distance that set her on edge. Occasionally, she'd feel his hand trail the curve of her hip before she squirmed away, still terrified of being caught in the act.

The door slammed behind them in what seemed to Ema an unnecessarily loud manner, and she figured he'd done it on purpose. She decided to have the inevitable argument now, before his skilled touch distracted her from why she was mad in the first place. "Are you _insane_?" she asked. "The chief of police was right there! You can't just…"

Klavier shrugged, obviously nonplussed by her irritation. "I stopped when you asked, fraulein," he replied simply. "I don't get what you're so afraid of. We're not doing anything that's wrong."

"I didn't say it was wrong," she continued, advancing on him. She jabbed him in the chest with her forefinger. "I'm just trying to do us both a favor so people don't get the wrong id—" He cut her off with a kiss, roughly pulling her to him by the hips to close the space between them. Her anger slowly began to dissipate and she kissed him back, fisting her hands in his shirt.

He slid his hand down her ass and the back of her thigh, tracing her hemline with his fingertips. This time, as he edged up under her skirt, she was much slower to stop him. "Hey…" she said half-heartedly, her best attempt at protesting as she always does.

"You have no reason to stop me this time, Ema." He sucked briefly on her earlobe, nibbling at the tender hollow beneath it. She hissed at his roughness. Klavier began to push her backward and toward her desk as he slid her skirt up her thighs even farther. His mouth was insistent along her jaw line, claiming her. Over his shoulder, she caught a glimpse of the clock on her wall and realized they were pressed for time.

"M—Meeting," Ema managed. He pulled away to look at her, confused.

"What?" Her skirt was nearly around her hips.

"The weekly homicide department meeting." She swallowed hard, trying to maintain her composure as his hands slid tantalizingly close to her center. "I have to leave in, like, 20 minutes."

He sighed, annoyed, but his touch was undaunted. "Then, I'll make it quick," he whispered, his voice a sensual threat. "I wonder how many times I can make you come before then."

She inhaled sharply, excited by the promise. She leaned back on the edge of her desk as his hands slipped between her legs, sliding against her through the cotton barrier of her panties.

She could feel the grin on his face against the base of her throat as he found her already growing wet and pliable. He didn't make an effort to move her panties out of the way, instead slowly teasing her with the added texture of the fabric. She exhaled through gritted teeth, wanting more as she always did, but he didn't acquiesce, despite the time crunch that faced them.

She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her by pressing his calloused thumb hard into her clit. Ema squeaked in surprise, trying to keep her voice down. His teeth grazed up her neck as his touch grew rougher, and she leaned her head to the side to allow him better access.

Klavier still had not granted her skin-to-skin contact, and she lifted her hips into his hand, wanting to feel his fingers against her soft, sticky, hungry, wanting skin. He gave in, slipping one finger under her panties and tracing the shape of her entrance. She mewled softly, almost under her breath, resisting the overwhelming urge to press herself down on his hand and force him inside her.

A second finger brushed the fabric to the side, running the length of her slit. His thumb began to rub slow, delicious circles on her clit, waking the little organ fully to his touch. She rocked her hips against his hand, but he still didn't move beyond the almost-painfully-light stroking.

"Please," she groaned in his ear, begging. He chuckled but ignored her plea, pressing his thumb harder into her pleasure center but refusing to fill her.

Klavier nuzzled into her cheek, leaving a trail of kisses to her mouth, which he devoured as he continued to tease her. Ema returned the kiss hungrily, savoring the taste of him on her tongue. She had lost herself in the sensation – his warm, exploring hands and his strong tongue – when he suddenly buried his forefinger and middle finger inside her. She moaned at the invasion and tightened herself around him. He hooked his fingers forward, massaging against the ridges that marked her most sensitive spot.

He alternated between paying attention to her clit and her G-spot, his skillful fingers driving her closer and closer to the edge. She matched his pace with her hips, grinding against his hand in an attempt to take his fingers deeper. But every time she approached an orgasm he'd stop, sending her slinking back from the precipice.

She glanced at the clock again through lust-hazed eyes and realized she didn't have much more time to spare. "I have to…"

He dragged his tongue across her bottom lip. "I know." He quickened the pace, sending her headlong toward release. She came and he crushed his mouth to hers, swallowing the sound of her pleasured cries. She sagged, pressing her face into his shoulder as she reattached herself to the world around her. He kissed her temple, slipping his fingers out of her. He tweaked her clit as he pulled away, sending another wave through her orgasm.

Ema pulled her skirt back down, readjusting her panties as she did show. He watched her, licking the remains of her spent arousal off of his fingers with a smug, satisfied expression on his face. She wanted to glare at him, to knock him down a peg, but she had to acknowledge that he had earned the right to gloat a bit.

Her office smelled of her spent release and she fished in her desk for a bottle of body spray she kept on hand for these occasions. A spritz in the air and on her clothes it was like the encounter next happened – except for the throbbing sensation between her legs that was slowly fading.

She had almost forgotten that he was still there when he interrupted her primping. "I'm going to assume you're not too excited about the department's annual party, ja?"

Ema turned. "Huh? The Christmas party?" _Oh, no no. We're not going on dates now. This isn't…_

"Fraulein, don't look so surprised." Amusement was plain on Klavier's face. "It's not uncommon for the detectives and prosecutors to go together. As…_coworkers._"

_I see what he's playing at. He just like pushing my boundaries in public. _"I really, _really_ don't want to give people the wrong idea," she protested.

He was suddenly close to her again, too close. His fingers trailed across the inside of her wrist and down her palm, but he did not take her hand. "What are you so afraid of, Ema?" he countered. "The things you desire?" His eyes smoldered at her as he backed away, toward the door. "The party is in a little more than a week, right?" She nodded, struck dumb. "Achtung." His eyes travelled lewdly down her body. "Don't wear a long skirt." He vanished into the hallway and out of her office.

_Goddamn it. Scientifically speaking, I need to work on growing a pair of balls._

**December 20, 2012  
****6:49 p.m.  
****Ema Skye's Apartment**

Lana had already headed off to the party, leaving Ema alone with her concerns. As usual.

The cocktail dress she'd put in felt too tight, too short, too…_un-her_. She still hadn't quite figured out why she had agreed to go to the stupid thing with him in the first place. She pulled for what must have been the hundredth time on the clingy black fabric, trying to force it down over her knees. She was ultimately successful, but when she peered at herself in the mirror again she realized there was a price – her breasts were threatening to spill out of the sweetheart neckline.

With a sigh, she tugged the dress back up. It would have to do. Suddenly, her heels felt too high, her jewelry too garish, her hair…

The mirror had become her enemy since Lana had left. Klavier was coming for her at seven, and she had done nothing but stare at herself in anger for the past several minutes.

The knock at her door roused her from her thoughts. She had finally consented to allow him to come here, though the nights spent in Ema's apartment were few and far between.

She was slow to get the door, so he had entered anyway and was leaning casually against the door. She quickly slung her coat over her shoulders, but she knew he'd seen her attire, judging by the appreciative look on his face. He straightened, but before he could say anything, she huffed, "Let's go." Ema couldn't sprint out the door fast enough.

She recognized the gaudy and expensive Jaguar from the Halloween Gala, the very thing that got her into this mess in the first place. She settled into the passenger's seat, a scowl prominent on her face.

"You're in a fantastic mood, fraulein," Klavier noted sardonically. "What have I already done to anger you?"

He pulled out of the parking lot as she contemplated her response. "It's just been a long day," she spat. "I don't even want to go to this stupid thing."

Much to her surprise, he laughed. "You could have said no," he replied. "You're like a kid when you don't get your way." He smirked at her, making her frown deeper.

"You didn't really give me an option, _fop,_" she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring out the window.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shake his head. "Ema, relax," he said. The car came to a rest at a stop light, and he moved his hand from the gearshift to her knee. She whipped her head back around to face him. "I like the dress you have on. Very…_flattering."_

She placed his hand back on the shift. "Don't get any ideas. We are not going to this thing together. And there will be none of…_that!_"

"None of what, fraulein?" he teased. He shifted his touch to her thigh this time, tracing the hem of her dress with his finger. "None of you begging for me to…"

"Stop!" She pushed him away, scooting as close to the car door as she could. "I agreed to come to this fucking party to be nice, don't push your luck."

He laughed at her again, and she had to resist the urge to punch him. By the time they reached the precinct, Ema was truly beginning to regret her decision.

**December 20, 2012  
****7:26 p.m.  
****Criminal Affairs Department**

The Christmas party was not nearly the debauched event that the prosecutor's office held. The precinct treated it as an opportunity to thank those who had worked hard throughout the year by allowing everyone to let their hair down a bit. It wasn't a party that encouraged people to go home together like the Halloween Gala, but merely to toast to a successful year and countdown to what would hopefully be the next one.

Ema had previously refused to pretend because, well, she hadn't had very many successful years. She hadn't been a lead detective for long, but she seemed to have developed a knack for bungling cases and arresting the wrong person. This year, though, the Starlet Murders – as the papers had begun calling them – had really helped her reach the front of the pack in homicide.

Despite that, she still hadn't planned to celebrate her recent string of success by attending a stupid party with her irritating boss (and now-frequent sex partner).

She made quick work of ditching Klavier when they got into the party, sprinting off to speak with one of the lab technicians who'd worked on the starlet case with her. They chatted amicably about the investigation and the successful snag of the latest victim's boyfriend.

Ema glanced back, noting that Klavier had fallen comfortably into conversation with Miles Edgeworth, a legendary prosecutor in the city. He'd looked her way as well and their eyes met, but she quickly turned, avoiding any potential conversation with him.

The tech said something about grabbing another drink and meandered off into the party. Ema hung back awkwardly, looking to latch on to someone she knew. Lana was nowhere to be found, much to her dismay.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and found herself looking up into a very attractive set of brown eyes. She blinked, surprised. "Um, hello?"

"It's Ema, right? Ema Skye?" the young man asked.

She didn't answer right away. "Y—Yeah, that's me. And you are?" She thought she recognized him from somewhere, but she couldn't place it.

He looked sheepish at her confusion. "I'm kind of new here, but I was just assigned to be one of the junior detectives on your case. You know, the Posey murder?" He stuck his hand out to shake hers. "I'm Zakk Marquis," he said. "I guess it's nice to officially meet you."

Ema shook his hand, staring openly at the new detective. "Yeah, sorry. I thought you looked familiar. You were at the briefing last week, right? The chief's seminar in public relations?"

Zakk laughed. "Yeah, that was a bit of a snoozer. I got put on this case a little too late, I think. All I've had to do is some filing." He sighed. "Do you, uh, want a drink? Can I get you something?"

Ema paused, trying to remember if there was alcohol at the party. She hoped so. "Um, are they serving booze?"

"Sure are."

"Then a vodka tonic would be great," she replied. Klavier had expanded her knowledge of alcoholic beverages since she'd become a regular fixture at his wet bar. Zakk left her, heading to the cash bar. She was disappointed to see that there was a line, leaving her vulnerable.

"Who was that?" She knew it wouldn't take him long to swoop in on her.

"He's a junior detective, new to homicide," Ema explained simply. "He was recently assigned to help us with the residuals of the Posey case."

"It didn't look like he was interested in talking about detective work, fraulein," Klavier said darkly. He came close at her side, close enough that the back of his hand brushed hers.

She turned to glare at him. "Well, here's the thing. It's none of your business who I talk to and what we talk about," she said under her breath, stalking away from him.

He didn't follow. "Goddamn it, Ema. Stop being like this."

She stuck her tongue out at him before continuing to the bar line, where Zakk had nearly reached the counter. "Hey, get a little restless over there?" he said when he saw her approach.

She shrugged. "Yeah, I think I need a couple drinks before I fully appreciate this party."

He seemed to agree. "I feel you on that, Ema." Zakk handed her the highball glass with her drink in it. She took a greedy, deep sip, draining a good third of the beverage in one gulp. "Uh, wow. You must be used to knocking those back…"

She glanced at the drink in his hand – a double whiskey, neat. "That's why I don't drink things like that," she said. They headed back to the spot they'd occupied before. Klavier had moved away to converse with the chief, who looked as though he'd had a few drinks of his own, but he shot regular looks Ema's way.

Ema was pleasantly surprised to find that she enjoyed Zakk's company. He was also more handsome than she'd realized when he first approached – a strong jaw and high cheekbones gave him a very attractive face shape and he had broad, strong shoulders that she could imagine snuggling into.

_Oh, great. The fop has turned me into a sex maniac. _She pushed the thought away. The conversation flowed easily, and so did the drinks, and she soon found herself on her fourth glass.

"And—and then," Zakk stammered. He'd had just as many. "The chief said, 'So Mr. Marquis, do you like dragon fruit?' and I said, 'No sir. I don't like things that are spicy!' Get it? Because dragons, like breath fire?"

Ema cackled, finding the joke hilarious. In fact, everything Zakk said to her seemed to be warm, or kind, or delightfully funny and her hazy mind could listen to him talk all night. They'd gotten progressively closer and she found herself leaning into his shoulder and touching his arm as a he talked. "I bet the chief didn't think it was so funny," she said. "He's, like, totally old. And he's boring, too." She planted her hands on her hips and curled her lip in her best impression of the chief of police's signature sneer. "Now, Detective Skye, you do the worst interviews in homicide," she said, imitating the chief's voice. "Why don't you let your glimmerous fop of a prosecuting boss do all the public stuff while you do all the work?" She stomped her foot impatiently, as the chief often did.

Zakk laughed. "That's exactly what he sounds like!" He took a deep swig of his whiskey, tinkling the ice against the sides of the glass. "I'm not sure what a glammy-rews whatever is, but Gavin seems like a pain to be assigned to."

She finished her drink, clutching the glass as she thought about how annoying Klavier was as a boss. "Tell me about it," she said, gesturing widely. "He's an absolute prima donna. And he acts like he owns the place wherever we go to investigate, like he's a fucking king or something…oops!" Her glass hit the ground, shattering. "I think that was karma."

Zakk reached for her hand. "Did you cut yourself?" A thin slice marred her palm at the base of her thumb. "Here, lemme…" He lifted her hand to his mouth and licked the wound. Ema stared at him, wide-eyed and pulled her hand away.

She felt a hot, burning stare on the back of her neck. She knew Klavier had seen what just happened. "Oh, look, all better!" she said, holding her hand up to display.

Zakk laced his fingers through hers. "Look, Ema, I had a really nice time tonight, and I'd like to do again sometime. Let's have dinner, or something?" He looked away, embarrassed.

Ema froze. She wasn't sure what the correct answer was in this situation. "Um, let's definitely hang out, that would be cool," she finally said, not wanting to hurt his feelings. She punched Zakk's number into her phone and searched for an exit from the conversation.

Then, a familiar hand was at her elbow. "Can I have a word with you, fraulein?" Klavier asked, pulling her away from Zakk more roughly than she would expect.

She glared at him. "About what?"

His eyes were dark, angry. "It will only take a second," he said, his gaze lifting to Zakk. Immediate dislike was obvious in his face.

She pulled her arm out of his grip. "Fine." She looked at Zakk. "Excuse me."

Klavier led her out of the party entirely and outside. Her coat was still in the building and she was freezing. Ema massaged her palms up her arms to warm herself up. Suddenly, his mouth was on hers, hard and possessive. "You're a little minx, you know that?" he snarled against her lips.

She pulled away. "How dare you."

"No, Ema. How dare _you_," he countered, clenching his hands. "Something new comes along and I'm not good enough for you anymore? You came here with me, if you recall."

She crossed her arms over her chest, undaunted. "You can't be serious right now. Quit being stupid, we were just talking."

"Just talking? You were practically throwing yourself at him. I recognized the look in your eyes, I know it quite well."

"What, are you jealous or something? We didn't come here together. I just let you drive me." The alcohol in her veins gave her surprising bravado, and she didn't fear the furious look on his face.

"Well, I didn't bring you here to act like a little _whore!_"

Before she realized what she was doing, she'd slapped him, hard. He recoiled, shocked. "Stop this, now. We had an agreement, if you recall. And I don't have to stay away from a nice conversation just because it bothers you. You're the one who's not keeping up his end of the bargain right now." He stared at her, still reeling from her slap. She could feel the sting throbbing in her palm. "No feelings, Klavier. _No feelings, _remember? Jealousy is a feeling."

She turned on heel and stomped off, heading down the block. "Ema, wait! Where the hell are you going?"

"Somewhere that you're not going to fucking aggravate me," she shouted back. "_Home!"_

"You're drunk, and you don't have your coat, let me take you back." He jogged to catch up with her, but she wasn't having it.

"No. Absolutely not. I don't want to look at you for a while, until you figure out that you're the one acting like a child." He didn't try to follow her after that. She rounded the block before she sagged into the side of a brick office building. She slid down the wall and dug in her clutch for her cell phone. The person she needed most answered immediately.

"L—Lana," she murmured, and she realized that she was crying. "I'm just around the corner from the precinct, by 49th Street. Can you take me home?" Ema wiped at her eyes, refusing to allow any more tears to fall. "And, uh, grab my coat." She sighed. "I'll tell you about it on the way back. Thanks." She hung up, dropping her phone unceremoniously beside her.

Her hand still stung. His words stung even more.

_If I'm keeping up my end of the bargain – no feelings – why does it hurt like this?_

* * *

**A/N: Welp, it's been a long time in the making, so I hope it was worth the wait. This story has been kind of light so far, but obviously to progress these two towards an ADULT! relationship, it has to get serious at some point. Obviously, this chapter is the first step toward Ema getting it through her incredibly thick skull that she actually does care about our beloved glimmerous fop. We're getting there. She's dense. Suuuuuper dense.**

**I also just wanted to say that I really appreciate all the reviews. I'm glad you guys like my portrayal of these two characters – that was one of my two main goals in writing this story: keep them in character and write good (decent?) smut. I'm proud to know that I'm at least on the way to accomplishing those goals.**

**I am also going to work on my proofreading. Oddly enough, I am actually a copy editor in the REAL WORLD (wut?), but my greatest weakness is that I never see the errors in my own work. I see what I want to see. So I tried hard on this chapter and will hopefully have a chance to clean up the past ones.**

**ALSO ALSO. I want to do a spin-off with Lana and Franziska. Just a three chapters-ish kind of side story. They were arbitrary at first, but I'm starting to fall in love with the idea of them together! Lana will also make a triumphant return next chapterrrrr.**

**See you in chapter 6. xoxo**


	6. Turnabout Fears

Magnetism

_TURNABOUT FEARS_

**A/N: Remember when I used to feel really bad about not updating for a month, or maybe five-six weeks? Well, apparently my habits are getting even worse because here I am, slinking back to this story after four-ish months. I am so sorry for the wait, and HELLO to all the new followers who have appeared since I last updated. I always got a pang of guilt when I got that email notification… As a gift for all of you who waited, I am going to bring in Klavier's bandmates in a supporting role in this chapter. Hopefully they're fun, since we obvs know nothing about any of them other than Daryan. I lied last time about Lana being in this chapter (spoiler: she's not), but she WILL ACTUALLY be in the next one. I promise. I changed my plot a little bit in the time since I worked on this story.**

**Anyway, my semester is over, though I'm still just as busy, as I have an internship and other adult things to do. I am hoping to wrap this story up in the next few chapters, maybe by the end of the summer. We'll see. Anyway, keep reviewing and following and favoriting and whatever else! Let me know what I'm doing wrong, too. ;)**

* * *

Ema wasn't sure how she'd ended up here. She had spent days avoiding him, doing everything in her power to keep him at several arms lengths.

But here she was, standing outside his front door. The trek here had been a nightmare, though she'd been just a few blocks south. It was humid and pouring and she hated herself for coming here. The rain soaked through her lab coat and made the heavy cotton cling uncomfortably to her skin. She raised a hand to knock on the door but pulled it back, unable to bring herself to do it.

A couple of hours ago, even just twenty minutes ago, she couldn't imagine standing here. She was still furious with the way he treated her at the party, and the holiday season had made a very easy excuse for staying away.

But she had to run on this particular night. And she knew that Klavier Gavin, more than any one, would understand why she had been so afraid.

**January 3, 2026  
****11:45 p.m.  
****Zakk Marquis's Apartment**

Zakk rolled off of her and settled on his side. Ema was usually slow when it came to mixing sex into a relationship, but she'd fallen into bed with Zakk on the third date. And now here they were, almost three weeks later, and she still had yet to find a rhythm with him. _Scientifically speaking, _she thought, _he's never made me come. Not once._

He propped up on his elbow next her, a grin on his face. "That was great," he said, almost worshipfully. "You're so amazing."

Ema didn't want to look at him, but she had to. "Thanks. You…uh…too." She sat up, tossing the sheet to the side and climbing out of the bed. "I'll be right back, bathroom." She left him there to contemplate their chemistry and slipped into the bathroom. She closed the toilet lid and sat down on it, burying her face in her hands. The throb of unfulfilled tension was unbearable.

She had gotten used to this over the past several weeks and was very good at getting herself off when he failed to rise to the task. She slowly slid a hand down her stomach, imagining what it would be like if Zakk had any concern for her pleasure.

Zakk had very soft hands, she'd noticed, and he used them softly, too. She always tried to start here, but fantasizing about him rarely did much after his perpetual failures. The vision of his soft hands always melted into rougher, tanned, calloused fingers that knew her body better than she knew it herself.

She came quickly, murmuring the name she wanted to forget more than anything. She washed her hands in an attempt to cover up her tracks and made her way back to the bedroom. Zakk lifted his eyebrows at her as she entered. "That took a while."

Ema shrugged, slapping a lazy smile on her face. "Well, you know how I get after…really sleepy."

He seemed to accept that answer. "Hey, Em…I've been meaning to tell you something. I've been thinking about this for a long time, and…I think we should, you know, get a little more serious."

She froze. This was not what she wanted to discuss with him. She hadn't even decided if she actually liked him beyond her initial drunken impression of him at the Christmas party, and she was hoping that maybe he'd pick up on her lack of sexual enthusiasm for him. "Oh, uh…what brought this about?" she managed, trying to keep a straight face.

"I've just been thinking, you know, like I said," he continued, his voice coming out in a nervous ramble. "And, Ema, I…I think I'm in love with you."

All of the alarm bells went off in Ema's head. There was nothing she could say. Her mind completely emptied. It was the worst thing he could have told her.

They stared at each other for a long time, the silence stretching awkwardly between the two of them. Then it was as if the truth dawned on him, and his face fell in a way that almost pained her. It hurt her more that it didn't.

"What's the matter, Em?" Zakk looked like he wanted nothing more than to turn away and bury his face in the pillows. "Maybe I…"

She said nothing for a long empty moment, the words just wouldn't come. "I really should go," she finally mumbled. He watched her closely as she wordlessly pulled on her clothes and headed for the bedroom door.

"I guess that's a no then," he said softly as she left.

She fled, that was the only way she could describe it, and suddenly she was outside on the sidewalk.

The rain poured down around her, soaking her hair, her skin, her thoughts. _Why didn't I just drive over here myself? _she thought bitterly. _Then this wouldn't be such a fucking pain in the ass._

She wrapped her arms around her body, and wandered. She knew the direction she was headed, but it didn't register with her until she reached the building, tall and foreboding. Ema looked up, scanning the glass the length of the place until she reached the penthouse. The light was on, and shadows shifted in the room beyond – people, or least one person.

Against her better judgment, she went inside. The doorman recognized her and nodded, allowing her past him. She almost changed her mind at the elevator, but soon its sleek metal doors opened and she found herself pressing the button for the top floor. It whirred upward and upward for what felt like an eternity, the ground fleeing from her through the glass exterior of the elevator.

The doors slid open and she found her final test. There were three large penthouse suites in this building, and she supposed that some other rich, famous person would be rather put off to find a wet stranger knocking on their door in the middle of the night. So she strode up to the door she knew with purpose…and froze.

The events that led her to be here felt like a blur, and she wanted nothing more than to forget them, forget Zakk, forget everything. And this was the best way, the easiest way.

She heard multiple voices, male and female, from inside, though she couldn't quite place who they were with the door muffling them. With a heavy sigh, she lifted a fist to knock loudly on the door. There wasn't an immediate response, so she kept knocking, pounding on the finished wood surface over and over. She felt like crying, but she didn't.

Knocking had come to be so robotic to her that she hardly noticed when the door opened and instead her fist met a solid, male chest. "Fraulein," was all he said, and if he was surprised to see her he didn't show it. He closed a hand around her wrist to prevent her from hitting him again.

She didn't want to even look at him, but she had to. Klavier's face was blank, and she didn't quite know what to say to him. "It's…raining," she managed, pulling free of his grasp.

"I can see that," he replied, a trace of a smirk finding its way onto his face. He stepped back to allow Ema inside. "I'm sure we can find you something drier to wear, fraulein."

When she reached the living room, six pairs of eyes were staring at her. Klavier's band mates – sans Daryan, who was in prison – and three young, pretty women looked at her with surprise. Marco, the bassist, spoke to her first, a grin plastered on his face. "Signorina Skye!" he exclaimed, rising. He had always been the most pleasant member of the Gavinners to deal with. "I always wondered when I would see you here."

Ema lifted her eyebrows at him. _What is that supposed to mean? _"Uh, it's nice to see you all again…"

Marco usually dressed the most casually of the band, too, and tonight was no different. He wore a simple pair of jeans and a T-shirt, but his blue eyes glinted mischievously. He pushed his brown bangs out of his face and gestured to the woman at his side. She appeared to be around Ema's age with long, dark hair and deep green eyes. "This is mi amore, Rosa," he said. "Rosa, Ema is a homicide detective at the precinct." Marco was one of the key technicians in forensics.

"It's a pleasure, Signorina Skye," Rosa said. Her voice was thick and gorgeous, and Ema wasn't exactly sure how to respond.

"Likewise, Rosa," was all she managed.

"You can all fawn over mein Fraulein Detective in a minute," Klavier interrupted. He brushed a hand over her shoulder, and then thought better of it and pulled away. "She is in need of some dry clothes."

Marco shrugged. "Fair enough, boss," he joked. "As you command." He bowed mockingly, winking at Ema.

Klavier rolled his eyes, used to Marco's manner. "After you," he said to Ema, his voice low enough that she hardly heard it.

"O—Okay." She lead the way into the bedroom, nervous. The door shutting behind them sounded ominous. Neither of them said anything for a long time.

Finally, Klavier broke the silence. "Why are you here, Ema?" he asked, getting directly to the point. She wished he hadn't, and instead had asked her about the weather, or about New Year's or some other idle topic. "Shouldn't you be…_gallivanting about_ with your little friend Zakk?"

She didn't like the way that sounded, so accusatory. But she understood why. "He's…been busy lately," she replied lamely. "And I wanted to, uh…pick up the things I left here."

His eyes were hard, and he obviously didn't believe her. But he played along anyway, and she knew he'd likely interrogate her further once the others were gone. "I see. And obviously walking here in the pouring rain was the easiest way to do that." She bit her lip, trying to formulate a convincing response. "Well, everything is where you left it, fraulein."

He wasn't lying. She had left an extra pair of sweatpants and a camisole in one of the dresser drawers in case she needed pajamas and an extra toothbrush and a stick of deodorant remained on a shelf in the adjoining bathroom's medicine cabinet. She grabbed the clothes and ducked into the bathroom to change, almost slamming the door behind her. She peeled off her soaking wet lab coat and blouse, tossing them into a heap. Her Capri pants followed. Her underwear was wet, too, but she chose to leave it on and deal with the sogginess. A towel hung by the shower and she used it to wipe down her skin.

_Fuck, it smells like him, _she thought. Klavier always wore the same cologne, a light, masculine musk that she recognized immediately. _It's, like, kinda spicy and warm and _sexy…_no, fuck, that's not – _

She put the towel back on the rod and pulled her sweatpants up. She stalked out of the bathroom, pulling the camisole down over her head as she did. She sighed huffily, still irritated with herself for her little towel indiscretion. "Better?" Klavier asked her casually, but she saw his eyes drag down her frame. "Shall I see you out?"

"No!" she exclaimed, regretting it immediately. "I mean, no, I was hoping to stay a little while to, uh, wait out the rain, you know?"

His lip twitched into what she thought was a smirk, but it faded quickly. "Well then, fraulein, make yourself at home."

She led the way back into the living room and tried to play it as cool as possible. She saw Marco and the keyboard player, Galen, exchange a look. Ema wished they'd stop doing things like that. Galen gestured to an open spot on the long, curling sofa when she approached. He'd always been a very solemn, quiet kind of man, and she was surprised to see a wide smile upon his face. "Chasete, we made room for you," he said. She never quite got used to the Greek words he lapsed into on occasion, and hoped that he wasn't insulting her.

The band mates had obviously planned this while they were in the back room, because Klavier soon settled beside her. He rested a vodka tonic on the table before her and settled back, close, too close. His arm was draped casually over the back of the couch, behind her but not touching her. Galen and the rhythm guitarist, Alexei, introduced the remaining two women – Galen's "paramour" Dionne and Alexei's most recent conquest, Olga.

Ema was surprised that Klavier did not have a counterpart of his own, but she didn't want to think on that too hard, either, because she was afraid of where that would lead her. Marco, however, did not miss the opportunity. "Ema, it's so good that you're here," he said. "Our numbers were a little uneven on this fine evening."

She grimaced. "It was totally an accident, I assure you," she quickly said. She took a huge gulp of her drink in hopes of masking her discomfort. It was obvious that everyone else had had a few already. "But it is nice to see all of you again. It's been…what? Pushing a year now."

The Gavinners all looked down into their drinks sadly, remembering. "That's about right, I think," Alexei said, shaking his head. "But we have the compilation album coming out soon, right, Klav?"

He shrugged. "The label has not been easy to deal with," he admitted. "They want to cut out the bonus material we had planned, including the unreleased single of 'Guitar's Serenade' that everyone is clamoring for."

Ema glanced up at him, but he remained impassive. He was holding a beer against his knee, but he hadn't touched it. "That's the only song of yours I ever liked," she muttered, taking another deep swig of her drink.

He laughed. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Ema was glad for the distraction of all of the raucous Gavinners and their pleasant, fun companions. She wanted nothing less than to think about Zakk or him being "in love" with her or any of the unpleasantness of earlier.

They also provided a strong distraction from Klavier, too, who she thought – probably incorrectly, because she was paranoid – kept getting closer and closer. Maybe the drinks were to blame for that, too, as it wasn't long before she had finished her third. Her head wasn't completely swimming, but it was fuzzy and she felt warm and that terrified her, because it meant she was growing comfortable.

Galen lifted himself off of the floor, stumbling toward the wet bar. "I think we need some shots!" he exclaimed, thrusting the doors open. Beside her, Klavier sighed irritably.

Galen nearly slammed a bottle of tequila on the coffee table. The bottle was almost full, and a long, petrified-looking worm floated along the bottom. He parceled out the shots slowly, setting one down in front of each person with care.

Ema tried to wave hers away. "I don't think I need…"

"Nonsense!" Marco interrupted. "Everyone needs tequila sometimes, signorina, and today you look like you could use more than one."

Everyone grabbed the shots and leaned in to tink their glasses together before taking them. "What should we toast to?" Alexei asked.

"To life, to love, to everything!" Marco replied, knocking his back.

Ema stared at hers for a moment, watching everyone else take the shot and wince. Klavier clinked his against the edge of hers and winked before swallowing the alcohol effortlessly. Not to be outdone, she followed suit, holding back the grimace that followed.

The three Gavinners continued to empty the bottle, occasionally forcing the rest of the party to join them. Dionne took Galen's third shot from him and pulled him sharply to the floor. "I think you've had enough, koukla."

Galen stuck his tongue out at her – Ema decided he was the drunkest – and Dionne pinched it between her fingers. Then they were laughing and he was kissing her earnestly and Ema had to look away.

The partying continued well into the night, and Ema thought it might never end. The rain had long stopped, but she was too drunk to make her way home and besides, they had long made her forget about Zakk and why she had come in the first place.

It was near two in the morning, or so she thought, and everyone seemed to have reached their plateau. Sometime in the hours that had passed, Klavier's arm had slid down from the top of the couch and was tucked around her waist. He leaned in close to her ear, his lips brushing her skin, and asked, "So why are you really here, fraulein?" His breath smelled like alcohol and it was inviting and she hated herself for it.

She shook her head. "Not now," was all she said. Words felt like syrup in her mouth, sticky and hard to manage. He accepted this, pressing his nose briefly into her hair and inhaling deeply before pulling away. She leaned into him a bit, hating that she wished he was closer still.

The bottle of tequila sat nearly emptied in the center of table, maybe a shot or two left in the bottom. The worm sat in the puddle of alcohol, shriveled and pathetic. "Who's eating the worm?" Marco exclaimed. "We finish the bottle, and someone has to eat the worm." He looked at each person in turn, before settling on Ema. "Why of course, it must be Signorina Skye who has the honor!"

Ema tried to wave them off. "Oh, no…I really couldn't…" But then it was in front of her, the last shot of tequila next to it. "Oh, come on guys, I…"

Olga, who had been relatively quiet through most of the night, smirked. "She is afraid!"

Alexei shot his girlfriend a look, shaking his head. "Forgive her, devochka," he said. "My woman has a sharp tongue."

Olga glared at him for moment, then winked at Ema. "And my man is not a man at all," she teased. "I'm sure he would cry if that worm was before him." She trailed a finger down his cheek. "But that is what I am here for, hmm? To make sure he is well protected."

He closed a hand around hers. "Is that what you think?" And then they had forgotten the rest were even there.

Marco whistled, grinning at Ema. "Well, Ema?" He pushed the shot closer. "Take the drink first, it will make it easier."

She bit her lip, holding the shot warily. Klavier's hand slid slowly down to her hip, and she found it surprisingly soothing. She glanced at him, and he lifted an eyebrow, testing her. Then, the shot was winding down her throat and the worm was following it down, slithering. She almost choked, but kept her composure.

The boys whooped, proud of her. "We always knew we liked you," Galen said, his arms wrapped around Dionne. "That was pretty cool."

Ema smirked. "I mean, scientifically speaking, I'm pretty damn cool," she said, finishing her fourth vodka tonic. She was glad the party was winding down, as she could feel the fuzzy din in her head growing louder.

It wasn't long before everyone headed out. The guys stumbled in trio, the ladies following after. Rosa paused in the doorway, and placed a hand on Ema's arm. "I'm glad I could meet you," she said, smiling softly at Klavier before shutting the door behind her.

The silence made everything real again, and Ema's night came rushing back to her. She remembered why she had come here in the first place, and the pang of fear spread through her body again. "So, are you going to tell me the truth or not, fraulein?" Klavier asked. He obviously had not forgotten, either.

Ema sank back into the couch, burying her face in her hands. "It's…a long story," she began, shaking her head.

He joined her, but maintained a distance. He curled his arms behind his head. "I'd guessed as much." He watched her out of the corner of his eye, but didn't touch her. "I know he lives close to here. It's in the employee file."

She looked up at him through his fingers. "Why do you always do that?" she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. She sighed. "He told me he loves me."

He said nothing, and his face didn't betray his thoughts. She figured he was choosing his words carefully. "So, why did you come _here_?"

She ignored the question, because she wasn't completely sure of the answer and she didn't want to delve into it too far. "I don't even like him, not really," she continued, rambling a bit. "He was just, _easy_, you know? I didn't have to do anything, because right from the start it was just, like, a rhythm." She shook her head. "Scientifically speaking, he was incredibly boring but a good distraction."

"What were you trying to distract yourself from?" he asked. _I really wish he would stop doing that, _she thought. _It's like he can read my mind or something._

Ema again ignored his question and the meaning behind it. "I just never do stuff like that, you know, but it was so easy to just _sleep_ with him so I could ignore everything else…"

"You're fucking him?" His voice was hard.

She looked up at him in surprise. "I mean…" _Should probably have chosen my words a little more carefully. But then again, it's really none of his business._ She held her head high, daring him to challenge her. "Yes, I am…or, was."

"Was it good for you?" He wasn't looking at her now, as apparently some invisible thing on the living room wall had captured his attention. "I'm sure he was very…_dutiful._"

This question she could answer without too much thought – sex with Zakk had been remarkably unfulfilling – but she didn't want to give Klavier the idea that that was why she was here. "Not exactly," she muttered. She saw the corner of his mouth twitch upward, but otherwise he did not react. "I guess we just, I don't know…he never…" The words caught in her throat. She didn't want to admit, to this man who'd taken her to places she didn't know existed, that she hadn't reached her peak in weeks with the guy she guessed was her boyfriend.

"But he loves you, you said," Klavier continued, though his voice had lost its edge. "And that's why you're here. Because you don't love him."

"He never made me come," she spluttered, as much to her own surprise as his. "Not once. And then he tries to tell me that he's falling in love with me when he can't even…" She buried her face in her hands again. "I came here because I was afraid," she finally admitted. "And I thought you might…might understand."

The silence stretched between them after that. He was watching her carefully, and Ema didn't want to look up and into his eyes, because she didn't want to know what was in them. He brushed her hair, slightly frizzy from the rain, back from her face. "I…get it, fraulein," he said slowly. "Emotions are the scariest thing we have."

She lifted her gaze then, and she was so scared of what she saw in his face. Time froze and she didn't know what she was doing but she was kissing him and everything was on fire. He eased her into his lap, his mouth moving slowly against hers, but she wanted more, the fear spiking through her and turning into a wave of passion and senseless want. She slung her leg over his lap, straddling him, pressing down for even a taste of the painfully delicious friction.

He clamped his hands on her shoulders and firmly held her at a distance. "Ema, stop." She blinked, and as suddenly as it had come the frenzy ended. "No matter how lowly you think of me, I refuse to be some stand-in for your _boyfriend_."

His words hung in the air between them. The comforting effects of the alcohol were all but gone, and she was going to have to face this like an adult. "I don't…" She bit her lip. "That's not what I…" Neither of them moved as she struggled for the words. "Every time I was with him…I wanted it to be _you_."

His hands slid up her neck and to her face, caressing her with those familiar calluses. He didn't say anything, but pulled her back to him, kissing her with an unrestrained longing that caught her off guard. Her hands fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, succeeding with two before he stopped her. "Relax," he said against her mouth. "You're rushing."

She wanted to tell him that she wanted to rush, that she had almost whispered his name in Zakk's ear once when he touched her, that she had missed feeling overcome with passion and wanted nothing more to succumb to it. She wanted to press his hand between her legs and make it quick, but she didn't do any of those things. Instead, she trusted him, and she thought it was the most dangerous thing she'd ever done.

Klavier was in no hurry to touch her beyond a few fingers straying up under the bottom of her camisole. She rocked her hips down against him, thinking maybe that could convince him to move a little faster. She was rewarded with a groan low in the back of his throat, but his hands didn't shift. She bit down on his lip, testing him, and he pulled away, shaking his head. "No patience, as usual," he said, smirking at her.

The heat in his eyes sent a tingle of pleasure straight to her groin. Ema pressed harder into his crotch in response, trying to urge him on. Instead he pushed her off of him entirely, standing. "Well, this definitely means I'm torturing you," he said, the same expression of mirth on his face. She lifted herself off the couch.

"What the hell is that about?" she snarled, glaring at him. "I've been tortured for weeks."

He was unfazed. "Which is why you could stand it a bit longer, hmm?" They stared each other down for a long while, testing who would break first, and then he scooped her up in his arms, bridal-style, and carried her toward his bedroom.

"Who's impatient now?" she countered, grinning at him.

"Who said anything about rushing?" He kissed the tip of her nose, and then brushed across her lips.

She remembered the first time he'd brought her here, how he had dumped her on his bed like a plaything and then devoured her whole. This felt slow and deliberate, and he set her down on the edge with a surprising gentleness. She managed to wrestle two more buttons on his shirt open before he knelt in front of her. "What are you doing?" she asked, suspicious.

He looked up at her, grinning. "You said you've been, _frustrated_, fraulein," he said. "I'm sure your little boyfriend didn't know how to handle you."

Ema's nose wrinkled. "He's not…" Her voice trailed off as Klavier began to massage her foot, slowly circling his thumbs into the musculature. She blinked down at him, unsure. "This isn't…"

"I told you to relax, Ema," he interrupted. "That _boy _didn't treat you the way you deserve, so just accept that I'm going to."

_Boy? He's the same age as you, asshole, _she thought. But she had decided to trust him before, so she had to now. He kissed the inside of her ankle before dragging his tongue along her instep. Her breath caught in surprise – it wasn't something she expected to enjoy. He brushed his lips against the pads of her toes before grazing his teeth against each one. She felt each bite deep in her belly, heat pooling there. All the while, he did not break his gaze from hers, watching the look on her face.

The heat flared stronger as he repeated the ritual to her other foot. A whimper escaped her on the tenth toe, as if her foot had become hardwired to her core. He rose slightly, just enough to slide his hands up to her hips. Gently, he tugged her sweatpants down, tossing them unceremoniously to the side. All of the muscles south of her bellybutton clench in anticipation. Instead he settled back on his heels and kissed her again at the ankle, trailing kisses slowly up the side of her calf.

His fingers traced slow circles behind her knee as his mouth moved up past the joint. The closer he drew to her center, the faster her heart rate sped, waiting. He nipped at the inside of her thigh, tracing the length with his tongue before pulling away and softly brushing his lips against her opposite ankle. She groaned from unreleased tension. "What are you doing?" she asked him again, sounding more than a little breathless.

He continued to watch her before answering. "I believe I already told you," he said against the soft skin of her thigh. He breath was hot against her entrance and it was driving her crazy. He sat up, urging her to scoot back on the bed. She did, and he gathered her to his chest, kissing her all over her face – her temples, her eyelids, her cheeks, the tip of her chin. He nibbled along the underside of her jaw and the soft skin under her earlobe and traced the bridge of her nose with his own before capturing her lips. Ema clawed at his shirt, popping another button loose as his tongue trailed along her bottom lip. Then his mouth was gone again and he clasped her wrist.

Klavier traced the outside of her palm with his tongue and then sucked gently on each of her fingertips. Her chest heaved, the sensation spiking downward to join the pressure in her groin. He nipped at the webbing of her thumb, harder than she expected, and she moaned in surprise. He kissed the inside of her wrist, grazing his teeth along her pulse point. He nosed up her forearm, his tongue drawing the shape of her veins. He left a trail of kisses up her bicep before nuzzling into her shoulder. He bit down on her collarbone, and she cried out, rocking her hips into his. She heard his breath escape in a hiss, and knew he was resisting the urge to throw her down and take her now.

He moved along her upper chest with his mouth, kissing the exposed tops of her breasts without taking off the camisole. He moved down her other arm, repeating everything he'd done to her before. She whimpered as he sucked her fingertips, the tease of something to come.

His fingers slid languidly under her top, caressing her stomach as he eased the fabric up. She helped him pull it off, managing to finally tug the buttons free on his shirt as well. He laughed at her impatience but shrugged the fabric off nonetheless. Her breath hitched a the skin on skin contact, and she traced his abdomen with her fingers. Klavier resumed the slow, gentle exploration of his mouth, kissing the exposed skin of her chest as he eased her bra straps down her shoulders. She barely noticed when his skillful fingers popped the clasp and the barrier was gone, hitting the floor. He kissed a trail down her sternum, one hand sliding up her side to cup an exposed breast with surprising gentleness. She arched experimentally into his hand, urging him on. She felt his grin against her skin, but he did not give in to her pleading, instead kneading her skin softly.

His thumb flicked across her erect nipple but did not stay long. Slowly, his hot mouth approached her other one, his tongue swirling the shape of the pink bud before pulling away. "You're sure you want this?" he asked her, catching her off guard.

She hesitated. "Y—Yes," she finally managed.

He took her nipple in her mouth, then, sucking and biting and teasing the tender flesh. His fingers tugged and pinched the other. She moaned in spite of herself, her hands scraping down the zipper on his jeans. She popped the top button, and he grunted, flexing his hips against her hands. Just as she had gotten the zipper down and was about to get her hands on him, he pushed her back into the bed, his tongue sliding down her stomach. She writhed as he swirled it around her navel and hooked his thumbs through the legs of her underwear, slipping them off. She kicked them off the bed. He probed her gently with his fingers, but she was ready for him. She keened when he finally pressed his thumb to her swollen clitoris, bucking forward to beg for more. He traced the shape of her hip with his tongue, his forefinger rotating slowly around her entrance.

He slid a finger into her agonizingly slowly, then added a second, hooking forward to catch the sensitive spot deep inside her. She cried out in response, begging for more. He kissed her at the crest of her lips before dragging his tongue along the length of her slit. He pressed the flat of it into her clit and she exclaimed again, lifting her hips against his touch.

He continued with this slow manipulation for what could have been forever, driving her to the edge before backing off just before she reached the peak. She dragged her fingers through his hair, his braid long loosened by her aggressive hands.

When he finally allowed her to come, it was explosive, her body shuddering and erupting before she came back to consciousness. It had been so long since she'd felt that way, since someone had been able to take her over the cusp of pleasure.

He was kissing her again and she could taste herself on his tongue. This kiss was far more passionate, and she remembered that he wanted her, too. She pushed his jeans down over his hips and he kicked them off, sending them to join her clothes on the floor. He was hot and hard against her leg and she slid a hand under his waistband to touch him. He rocked into his hips into her hands as she stroked along his length, groaning into her mouth anxiously. Together they removed this final barrier, his underwear carelessly hitting the floor.

He gently parted her legs, positioning himself at her entrance. Ema helped guide him into her, and then he was stretching her, filling her with his thick, perfect cock.

She expected him to set a thunderous rhythm – that was his usual style – but instead he took slow strokes, a pace that was gentle but felt amazing.

He sucked on the tender skin at the base of her throat as he continued his slow thrusting. Her hands wandered, tracing the lines of his body. She left a trail of kisses along his shoulder.

The tension built deeper within her as he slid inside her again and again, languidly stroking the sensitive walls with each inch of his member. _Oh, God, _she realized. _This isn't…he's making love to me._

And that terrified her.

They could have laid there together for hours or minutes, but the throbbing need grew stronger and stronger, threatening to tear her apart from the inside. She clamped down on him tighter, urging him on, as she clung to him, mewling with unspent pleasure. She felt him swell inside her and knew that he was right there, too.

They came together, which had never happened before, and she cried out to him, his name spilling easily from her lips. She thought her body had exploded, ripping her to shreds before reattaching her to herself. Klavier murmured hers into her ear in response, like it was the most beautiful word he'd ever heard. "Ema, I…"

He pulled out of her slowly, gathering her against his chest. The words hung in the air between them, unspoken, and she knew they'd have to face it in the morning, what they'd just done. He'd worshiped every inch of her like a goddess and made love to her so sweetly, and she'd enjoyed it more than anything she'd ever experienced.

But, for now, until that time came, she was content with this. This moment that she didn't want to leave: the warmth of him and the dull, aching throb of spent pleasure.

* * *

**A/N: Well, there you have it folks. I hope it was worth the wait, eheh. Our little Klavier also almost let something slip, muwahaha. I can't wait until I get to be super sappy in this story. I'm trying to ease that into the plot without making it too overdone yet, because Ema is dense as fuck and just doesn't get it and Klavier has way too much pride to just drop and ILY without thinking it over first. He's got way too much swagger for that.**

**Again, Lana will reappear in the next chapter, because obvs…Ema can't work through these things herself because she's blind to the truth. So that will happen. I'm also really, desperately trying to come up with a way to work Nick into this story and I think this may be his opening. Hobo!Phoenix is a bit of a wise man, so maybe he could finally push Em in the right direction. We'll see, I'm going to try some things here.**

**We also have to deal with Zakk, welp. I almost feel bad for him.**

**Anyway, see you next time. Keep favoriting and following – and especially reviewing! I want to know what you think!**

**xoxo**


	7. Turnabout Denial

Magnetism

_TURNABOUT DENIAL_

**A/N: HOLY QUICK TURNAROUND, BATMAN! I know, right? Aaaaand I'm talking to myself in my own author's note, hahahahahaaaaa. *deranged laughter***

**Anyway, we are nearing the end of this tale. Only two chapters and the epilogue remain after this one, eek! I can't believe that I am almost done with Magnetism forever (brb crying). I also can't even begin to fathom the fact that this story is over 5,000 views. Like, what? It's beyond my capacity of understanding. Thank you all so, so, so much for sticking with me, each and every click means so much. **

**Speaking of that, I was a little surprised (depressed?) that there weren't very many comments after the last chapter. It makes me think you hated it. Did you hate it? DO YOU HATE ME NOW? I want reviews, so even if you do hate what I'm writing, say so. I want to know what I can improve on and what ya'll like. ALSO, so you're not surprised, this is a pretty G-rated chapter. SHOCKING, I know. But hey, it's gotta happen sometimes.**

* * *

**January 4, 2026  
****9:54 a.m.  
****Klavier Gavin's apartment**

Ema blinked her eyes open, the unpleasant tang of last night's alcohol on her breath. Her head was throbbing slightly, but otherwise she seemed to have escaped a bad hangover. She rolled over, surprised to find herself alone.

She discovered that the entire apartment was empty after she slung Klavier's grey robe over her shoulders and padded out into the living room. She rummaged in the kitchen, finding a bag of Snackoos she'd left buried in the back of a cabinet, and noticed an index card resting on the counter. His handwriting – surprisingly clean for a man and almost delicate – was immediately recognizable.

_I had to run to a meeting with the record company.  
__I hope I didn't wake you, fraulein.  
__There are things we should to talk about.  
__Maybe you can find the time.  
__x__  
_

Ema winced, setting the card back down with a frustrated groan. Everything that had happened the day before came rushing back, a flood of things she'd much rather forget. She wanted to rip the note in half, splitting the little "x" at the bottom right down the middle as if it would change what it meant.

She stuffed the Snackoos in her face like they were a shield from the truth, the loud sound of her crunching emptying her thoughts. She didn't want to have some heartfelt, real conversation with him, not yet. Maybe not ever.

The bag of Snackoos was half empty by the time she could rouse herself from her reverie. She found her bag near the front door and dug out her cell phone. She'd missed nearly ten calls from Zakk since she'd left his apartment the night before. He'd texted her several times, too, asking her if she was okay and where she'd run off to. She listened to a few of his voicemails, but the desperation in his voice cut through her like a knife.

It was pushing lunch time, now. She figured she'd run into Klavier any minute, and wanted to avoid that at all costs. So, for the second time in the past day, Ema planned to run.

She sprinted back into the bedroom, and the image of him carrying her here the night before flashed vividly through her mind. She sighed, finding her clothes strewn across the room. She scooped up her sweatpants and found her camisole, pulling it over her head as she dialed Lana's number.

"Hey, Em," Lana said. "I thought today was your day off. I figured you'd still be sleeping or something."

Ema grabbed her now-dry clothes from the night before and hauled them out into the living room, propping her phone on her shoulder. "And here I thought you might want to talk to me, sis," she retorted. "But if I'm not good enough for you…" She stuffed her clothes into her bag, barely fitting them. Her sister laughed.

"You just sound busy, Ema," she said. "I can hear you running around through the phone."

Ema sighed again. "I'll explain it later. Can I come over?"

"Sure. Should I be expecting you soon?"

"Sooner than you'd probably think," Ema told her. She hung up and then snatched the remaining Snackoos off of the counter. The note sat there, taunting her.

She flipped the card over and wrote a hasty response, feeling her heart drop into her stomach. She knew it was cruel, but she fled the apartment before she could change her mind.

_I'm sorry, but I can't._

**January 4, 2026  
****11:26 a.m.  
****Lana Skye's apartment****  
**

Ema knocked quickly on her sister's door and then pushed her way in. "That was fast, Ema, what's the deal?"

She shrugged, trying to be cool. "I just wanted to hang out, sis. It's been a while, you know…"

Lana lifted an eyebrow, obviously not buying it. "You look like you just came from a sleepover," she said accusingly. "Was it _Zakk_ again?" Lana had not been her fling's biggest fan, and she knew full well that Ema was using him.

"N—No, stop it, Lana," Ema said. "I mean, maybe? Kind of? It's complicated." She plopped down on the couch, digging out the last few Snackoos and furiously eating them.

"Judging by your snacking speed, you must have done something really stupid, Em," Lana said, sitting next her sister.

Ema glared at her, Snackoo crumbs clinging to her chin. "You're supposed to _help_ me, you know, not judge me."

"Ema, I'm here to tell you when you're being an idiot," Lana replied. She took the Snackoos away and put them on the coffee table. "So tell me what happened."

Ema crossed her arms over her chest and bit her lip, thinking on how much detail she wanted to share. "Zakk…thinks he wants to take things to the next level. Or at least that's what he said last night."

Lana snorted derisively. "Oh, really? I hope you said no."

"Lana!"

She brushed her hair out of her eyes, a bored expression on her face. "Em, you know I don't like that guy."

"Well, it doesn't matter, because I don't…I mean, I didn't say it back."

"_It?_ Ema, you know you're twenty-five, right? I mean, come on."

Ema's frown deepened. "Whatever. I don't love him, okay? He was just…easy. Kind of boring, but easy. And he liked me, scientifically speaking, a lot."

"So you told him that?"

"Not…exactly?"

"Ema!" Lana stood, folding her arms in irritation. "You can't just play with someone like that; you have to tell him the truth!"

"I mean, he said it, and then I just kind of…ran away." Ema felt sheepish, and knew her sister was right. Not being firm with Zakk had been her first mistake the night before. The first of many. "I think he got the idea."

"Regardless, that was a really immature way to react, and you know it."

Ema didn't say anything for a long time, letting her sister's disappointment in her hang over her head like a stormy cloud. She remembered how Zakk had sounded in his voicemails, so desperate and lonely and confused. All her fault. But the note she left on Klavier's kitchen island hurt even worse. "You're right, okay?" she finally conceded. "But like I said, it's complicated. He's complicated, and stupid, and so _famous_, and…"

Lana's eyebrows disappeared under her bangs. "I get the feeling we're not talking about Zakk anymore."

Ema slapped a hand over her mouth, knowing she'd just let something slip. "Of course we're talking about Zakk!" she replied hastily. "I mean, who else could I mean? I mean, you know…" Her voice trailed off as she attempted to escape this topic of conversation. "Yeah, totally Zakk. He's, like, getting super famous in homicide now. Like, really famous!"

Lana was obviously not convinced. "Oh, yes. I'm sure all that filing and paperwork has gotten him a huge gold star from the chief," she said.

"It has!" Ema continued, rambling slightly in hopes of maintaining her cover. "Scientifically speaking, all the detectives wish he worked for them instead of me! They keep asking me to trade or, you know, uh…" She snatched the Snackoos from the coffee table and began to furiously devour what was left. "He's making – _munch_ – a really strong impression, sis. He's very dedicated to homicide – _munch, munch_ – and he is definitely going to be a senior detective by the end of this quarter!"

Lana frowned. "You're not going to tell me the truth, are you?"

Ema ignored the question. "What truth – _munch_ – would that be, Lana?" She hoped her sister didn't think she sounded as insane as she figured she did. "I just told you everything. The guy thinks he – _muuuuunch_ – is in love with me."

Her sister's frown deepened. "You're really going to pretend like you're not hiding something?"

A Snackoo was sticking out of her mouth and Ema pulled it in with a satisfying crunch. "I don't know what you're talking about, sis."

"Fine, if that's how you want to play…" Lana pulled her sister up off of the couch by her arm and shoved her toward the door. "Get in my car. I'll be right behind you."

"Lana, what are you…?"

She shook her head. "Ema, you know I don't like bringing in reinforcements when it comes to dealing with you, but apparently, you're going to be difficult." _Has she already forgotten the part where I'm in my mid-twenties? _Ema wondered. But she obeyed her sister nonetheless.

As the door closed behind her, she heard Lana on the phone. "Sorry to bother you," she said. "But I could use a little help teaching my sister a lesson. Are you available?" Ema leaned into the door, but she couldn't hear the response from the person at the other end. "Perfect. You know the place."

Ema booked it into the garage under Lana's building before her sister could catch her eavesdropping. Wherever they were going, she had a bad feeling about it.

**January 4, 2026  
****1:02 p.m.  
****Maria's Café****  
**

Ema glared out the car window as her sister pulled into the café's parking lot. "Really, Lana? All that fuss over a trip to Maria's?"

Lana had a malicious glint in her eyes that her sister found more than a little terrifying. "Sure, sis. We're just here for a cup of coffee."

Ema hesitated before getting out of the car. Lana strode ahead, pausing at the door. "So this isn't an ambush…?" Ema asked. Her sister didn't give her a reply, a smirk playing on the corners of her mouth.

"Hey, Lana!" a voice called from across the café. Ema turned, and knew her sister had defeated her. Phoenix Wright adjusted his beanie, a familiar, lazy smile on his face. "Oh, Ema, you don't look so good."

She figured he wasn't lying. Ema hated to admit that she'd been bested. "Don't worry about me, Nick, I just feel bad that my sister dragged you the whole way down here."

He shrugged. "Well, she said you needed someone to straighten you out." He poked her in the middle of her forehead. "Apparently I'm just the pianist to do it."

Lana nudged her toward Phoenix's table, heading to the register to order drinks for them both. Ema sat opposite the former attorney, wary of her sister's plan. "So, Nick…what did she tell you, exactly?"

He shrugged again, pushing the sleeves of his sweatshirt up to his elbows. "Just that I had to wrestle some secret out of you," he said casually, as if it were no big deal. Ema could feel an angry blush spreading to the tips of her ears.

_Damn it, Lana. _"Well, that's where she'd be confused, because I'm not hiding anything from her."

"Oh, really?" He leaned back in his chair as Lana joined them at the table. Phoenix traced the rim of his coffee cup with his forefinger before taking a sip. "So your boyfriend got a little ahead of himself, did he?"

_How does he know that already? _Ema looked away from Nick's face and instead stared at the camera she'd given him, still clipped to his hat. "I guess you could say that."

Lana sighed irritably. "Yes, we've already touched on this," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "Can we get to the part where you started talking about someone incredibly annoying and famous?"

Phoenix's grin widened. "I thought you slapped Gavin in the face, Em."

Ema felt her blush deepen and she dropped her gaze to her cup. "Y—Yeah, exactly right! I haven't even talked to him since before Christmas, Lana, I don't know what you're accusing me of –"

"How was the party last night?" he asked.

"I mean, it was all right. I could tell Marco has always wanted to get me drunk, and judging by all the tequila shots he may have succeeded somewhat, scientifically speaking, but…"

"Hah! Got you!" Lana said with a chuckle. "So you were at Mr. Gavin's place."

"Wait, no!" Ema glared at Phoenix. "How did you know that the Gavinners had a get together last night?" she asked accusatorially.

"Sources," he replied boredly. "I'm guessing you went over there after you turned down you're poor sap of a boyfriend, huh?"

"Zakk's not my boyfriend," Ema muttered. _I didn't know I signed up for the Spanish Inquisition alongside my cup of coffee. _"Okay, yes. Fine. I want to…_his_ place last night. All right, Lana? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Lana dropped her coffee cup with a sound of delight – not quite a squeal, but close. "I knew it!" she said. "As soon as you started on your little rant, I knew. I've definitely heard it all before." She placed a hand over Phoenix's, smiling at him. "You really should think about getting back into the business, Mr. Wright. That was quite a spectacular show. You had her singing like a canary in no time!"

He laughed. "Oh, it's nothing. Just what I do."

"When you're done having a laugh at my expense, let me know," Ema huffed, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. "Yes, laugh away, breaking hearts is just hilarious."

Lana paused, giving her sister a quizzical look. "Ema, what did you do?"

"Oh, nothing," she said quickly. _And once again, I start running at the mouth. _"I mean, Zakk, obviously. Since I ran out on him and haven't returned any of his million calls or text messages."

"Uh huh." Lana did not appear convinced, but let it slide this time. She'd already won a major battle. "So what happened?"

"It was raining last night, so when I booked it out of Zakk's place I needed to find somewhere close, that's all," Ema said, refusing to look at either of them. "Nothing happened."

"Oh? Just tequila shots, then?"

Ema flushed again. "Yeah, the guys wanted to help me warm up, you know. Nothing weird or, you know, like _incredibly sexy_ or anything…."

"Nothing at all?"

"R—Right, just like I said. Nothing at all."

"Methinks she dost protest too much," Phoenix said.

Ema turned then, shooting him a glare. "I wouldn't have to if you two would just DROP IT!" she snarled. She took a deep swig of her coffee. "I want a fucking bagel." She pushed away from the table and stomped to the counter, ignoring the low laughter behind her.

Once the bagel was toasted and set out for her, she returned to the table. Lana and Phoenix looked at her innocently, but she knew the interrogation was far from over. "We didn't mean to pick on you, Em," Lana said. "But we all know what happened the last time you drank too much around Mr. Gavin."

Ema's blush flared up once more, and she figured her face was redder than a tomato at this point. Despite how much alcohol she'd had, she remembered the Halloween Gala, and its aftermath, quite vividly. "Yes, well…"

"So it must have been really bad if you're holding out on us like this…"

"Scientifically speaking, the sex was far beyond satisfactory," Ema retorted.

When she realized what she said, she clamped a hand over her mouth. But it was already too late, she could tell by the triumphant grin on Lana's face. "I totally knew it! Look at you, Em, leading on two different guys, one of whom is a famous rock star…"

"I'm not leading him on!" she exclaimed so loudly that the old man at the table next to them turned to glare at her. "I mean, uh…he's a super famous and suave, he could never get played by little old me."

Lana finished her cup of coffee, sharing a secretive glance with Nick. "So you're finally going to admit it?"

"Admit what?" _I have nothing to admit other than the fact that I am really fucking sick of you asking me questions, sis. _"I slept with him, so what?"

Phoenix leaned forward, placing a hand on Ema's arm. "I hate to break it to you, kiddo, but it's pretty obvious that you're just a little head-over-heels."

"Head-over-heels? I don't believe I've done any backflips today."

At that, he laughed out loud. "I don't think I've ever met someone as obtuse as you, Ema," he said.

"I'm not…_obtuse_!" she retorted. "I just don't give two shits what happens to that glimmerous fop or any of his stupid glimmerous friends."

"Of course, if you say so," Lana said, a hit of condescension in her voice.

"Yeah, I sure do say so!" Ema continued, her words growing louder. "I do not have feelings for that stupid rock-loving, motorcycle-riding, necklace-wearing, incredibly irritating Klavier Gavin!" She slammed her hands on the table and stood, feeling victorious. A few people in the café chuckled and she retreated sheepishly back into her seat.

"You should probably not scream that in public," Lana cautioned. "He might hear you and then you'd really be in hot water."

"I welcome that day!" Ema finished her coffee. "Though admittedly I would have to train someone to be just as good at…" She remembered him sucking on her toes the night before and she bit her lip, silenced.

"Ema, you're totally in love with him. Admit it."

She hoped she looked as horrified as she felt. "Absolutely, no way. I don't. Not him. He's…."

"He's what? Good for you?" Lana smirked. "At least you recognize one way he's good for you, huh Ema?" Phoenix sniggered into his coffee.

"You know what?" Ema stood, picking up her empty cup. "I don't have to stay here and get picked on by the two of you. I'm going home!" She stormed out, but before she could reach the door, Phoenix called to her.

"Ema, being afraid hurts more than giving in," he said.

She didn't look at him as she left.

**January 4, 2026  
****10:47 p.m.  
****Ema Skye's apartment**

She found ways all afternoon to distract herself. Her bathroom seemed horribly dirty all of a sudden, and she found some old food in the fridge that she really needed to throw out right then and there. The kitchen counter looked horrifying and, oh, is there dust on the TV?

When she crawled into bed, it was all she could do to just lay there, staring up at the ceiling feeling nothing short of bewildered. She replayed the conversation at the coffee shop over and over and over in her head, trying to push her real problems out of her mind.

"How dare they humiliate me like that?" she huffed to herself, rolling over onto her side. "They're supposed to be my closest friends."

As she began to doze, the other memories – the ones she'd spent all day stifling – came flooding back. She remembered how good it felt to have those warm, calloused hands on her again and how much her body welcomed the brush of his soft lips across her skin. In a state between sleep and awake, her hand slid down her stomach unbidden and under the waistband of her underwear.

It didn't take long, the visual strong enough to send her over the edge quickly. After she came, she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling again, her sticky fingers still between her legs. She could feel the muscles spasming as the familiar heat of her orgasm faded.

_Maybe Lana is…no, absolutely not. I'd have to be completely out of my mind to…for the _fop_. Especially for him. Anyone but him, Ema._

Her cell phone rang on the nightstand and she habitually threw out a hand to grab it. Even without the caller ID identifying him, she'd have known the number immediately.

She let him go to voicemail.

When her phone pinged to indicate she had a new message, she held it tight against her chest. She would delete it without listening in a few minutes, or hours, or in the morning, but for now, she held him as close as she dared.

She thought she dreamed the tears after she fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry that this chapter kind of sucks. It is the bridge to the finale, so it had to be a little lame. It was super weird not to write a lemon though, whoa. It feels very out of character for me, haha. But obviously you can see where we're going. Assuming these characters allow me to take them where I have planned, the rest of the story should please all of you. It has to get a little sappy sometime, right? ;)**

**Also, today is a bonus two-for-one upload day from me! (WHAT?) I also posted the first chapter of my companion piece to this story. It's called "When the World Stops Turning." Check that out, too, and let me know what you think.**

**Keep favoriting, following and reviewing away, my friends. I still can't believe ya'll have clicked on this story more than 5,000 times. My mind will forever be blown.**

**xoxo**


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